A Halfling in the Truest Sense
by Decisions Are Hard
Summary: Bilbo knew he was only half hobbit but that had never mattered to him, he looked like a full born hobbit and acted like one. His dwarf blood and unknown birth father had never bothered him until he lost his parents and was on the way to loosing Bag End. He lost hope until Gandalf appeared and offered him a chance to save his home, but the home Gandalf has in mind is Erebor instead.
1. Chapter 1

_I do not own this book/movie at all. Found an unfixed number change and have fixed it. She only traveled two and a half months not four and a half. _Now that that is out of the way please enjoy the story._  
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Belladonna Took had never been the average hobbit lass. She was wild even for a Took and so it was not as much of a shock as it should have been to see her come home with a company of men from her latest and longest journey three months pregnant. She'd been in quite a sorry state covered in the dirt and sweat of travel, her once honey curled hair sheared shorter than a male hobbit's barely even reaching the base of her pointed ears, and wearing travel clothes that had certainly seen better days. She talked to no one at her arrival and locked herself away in her childhood room for two months after she returned. She spent her days weeping only eating or drinking for the sake of her child and none could sway her to leave the room. When her mourning was done she walked out of the room and bathed. Two and a half months of travel and two months of mourning washed away she prepared for a battle of will and patience. It was time to tell her tale.

At first she tried to gather only those she would need to prove she was worthy to care for her child. In the laws of the Shire a widow or a divorcee rare as they were could keep the children from her marriage when her husband is lost but an unmarried woman would be declared unfit to raise a child and her baby would be given away. Belladonna was not about to let that happen. In the end the entire Shire or so it had appeared had gathered in the Great Hall to hear her tale. She stood on the dais ready to present herself before her people and swore to herself that if they tried to take her baby she would leave for Rivendale and seek shelter with her friend Elrond. Silence fell over the gathering as she took her spot near the front of the dais.

"Gentlehobbits." She began her voice carrying easily through the dead silence of the hall. "I know that among you I am seen as wild and unruly. I know many of you who feel that I am unfit for the responsibilities of a proper hobbit lass. I know that there are some of you who believe that the babe I carry as an unwedded woman proves that I am unfit to raise my child. I am not going to deny that I am with child or that I have left the father and his memory behind. But know this I am no painted lady who gave herself away for money or the pleasure of it." She spat disgusted with the idea and the rumors that painted her with it. She straightened her back with pride because she would not let their lies and rumors break her.

"My child was born from love, a love sealed with vows according to the laws of the people I married into. I was a wedded woman when this child was conceived. The marriage ended when I realized that I could not provide for my husband as a proper wife should. I married as a youth with the passion of young love, but I let that passion distract me from the truth. The man I married was not a hobbit but a dwarf and a hobbit wife was not what he needed. It broke both of us to leave our love behind and if I had known then that I was with child I would have stayed with him for the sake of the babe." She began to tear up but continued her speech even as her voice broke.

"I have the marriage braid, marriage and courtship beads, and the contracts of marriage and divorce written according to the laws of his people and translated to Westron for my sake as proof of my marriage and divorce. I will present them to the Thain for him to verify my report. According to the laws of Hobbiton this child is mine and I have the same rights and privileges offered to any divorced mother. I pray you reach the right decision and let me keep my child. Goodnight." She said with a proper curtsy.

She left the hall with her head high even under the suspicious gaze of the gossiping town folk. The cold night air hit her and though she shivered with the cold she walked with her head held high. She made her way toward her parent's house already beginning to plan out how she would earn the money to properly care for her child. She could not go back to what she had left behind no matter how much she wished she had never left the love she'd found there. At the time she'd believed she was in the right but this child of hers had shed doubt on her resolve. But he was gone from the home they had shared by now. His people were wanderers and he would wander with them. She knew she would probably never be able to find him even if she looked until her dying day.

"Good Evening Miss Took." Bungo Baggins said as he walked up behind her.

"Good Evening Master Baggins." She said in reply trying hard not to be angry at him for interrupting her solitude. Though it looked as though her anger must have been visible from the way he flinched away from her. She tried to school her expression into something more hospitable but she didn't think she succeeded.

"You know that the Shire does not recognize the marriages of other cultures as we are not able to verify them. They will declare you an unmarried woman by the laws of the Shire. Your child will be lost to you the day they are born." He said solemnly.

She turned to see him looking every inch the proper hobbit even when he was talking to the outcast of the Shire. He was wearing a green waistcoat and a white shirt. His brown curls were longer than hers and his eyes were a shade of brown that almost looked like the polished wood table her family had had for five generations. He was handsome if a bit on the stuffy side and she would be lying if she said she'd never thought of him in a favorable light. Her head bowed as his words registered and her hand absently rubbed the bulge of her belly.

"I know." She said softly nearly breaking with the admission that her endeavor to keep her child was a hopeless one.

"But if you were to be married according to the laws of the Shire the child would be yours to keep. Now please do not think of this as an indecent proposal, but I believe we can help each other." He said hope in his voice and painted heavily on his features along with a smattering of embarrassment.

Belladonna looked at him with skeptical eyes her arms crossed over her belly and one eyebrow raised. "How am I to think the proposal you have mentioned is anything but indecent with the way you have announced it?"

Bungo's face turned red and he looked as embarrassed as a proper gentlehobbit could look. "I did not mean it like that My Lady Belladonna please forgive my foolish tongue for its impertinence. I know how this must look to you but I am not looking to you for any reason that would be dishonorable. I hope to accomplish the opposite and hopefully save us both from shame."  
>She frowned as her Took curiosity hit her in full swing. Just what had Bungo Baggins one of the most respectable hobbits in the Shire done to merit shame? She could never resist a mystery so she nodded and gestured for him to continue.<p>

He began to rub his hands together fidgeting and she knew then how serious he was. "For all that I look like a proper hobbit an illness that almost robbed me of my life instead stole from me my legacy." Bungo dipped his head in shame. "I survived the fever but I lost the ability to ever sire children. I look a proper hobbit, but I cannot provide a family to any lass I might one day wed. I would not ask anyone to shoulder that shame with me and I feared that I would live out my days as a bachelor. That is why I wished to talk with you tonight."

Belladonna's eyes widened and her hand shot to her mouth as she gasped. Her eyes widened with sympathy and she blamed her hormones for the tears that gathered in the corners of her eyes. "I am sorry for your loss and I will not spread word of your shame." She said solemnly.

He smiled a weak smile at her. "I thank you for your secrecy Miss."

She nodded her head in acknowledgment her manners no less impeccable for her Tookish bloodline. "There are some things none should gossip of Master Baggins."

He smiled at her confidently now having managed to gain control of his emotions like a proper hobbit should. "I know that this is far from the normal way of doing things and that I will be inviting some share of hardship onto myself, but I feel that it would be best for both of us if we followed one of the forgotten traditions of the Shire."

She held up her hand to stop him from talking with a small smile on her face so that he would not think her angry. Even so her words were serious and her voice reflected that. "I know what you are going to ask of me and I accept your proposal. I know you and I know that you are an honorable hobbit Master Baggins and I pray that one day we will come to love each other as a married couple should. You do not yet have my love but you have my gratitude, my respect, and my admiration and I see no reason why love cannot grow from them."

He bowed and kissed her hand. "Then I shall see you in the morrow My Dear Belladonna."

She curtsied and smiled at him. "And I shall look forward to the dawn."

They parted ways he to his family and her to her parent's house. She spent the night anxious and wide awake for reasons she could not explain. Questions chased her thoughts deep into the morning. Was marrying Bungo to keep her child the right decision? Would she ever love him as a wife should love her husband? Would he ever love her as a husband should love his wife? Was it a betrayal for her to settle down with another so soon after leaving her former husband? Would her Tookish heart ever find happiness with a Baggins? It was only when the sky began to turn light with the sunrise that she managed to find any sleep.

The next day Bungo came to see her after elevensies and presented her a bouquet of roses in all shades of pink and red and white in different stages of blooming tied off with ivy. She accepted it graciously and proudly displayed the bouquet on the dining room table. Her mother had about fainted from shock when she saw her wild Belladonna accepting a bouquet from a Baggins. The gossip sparked and spread like wildfire as Belladonna knew it would and she took it in stride. Their marriage was announced by the wagging of tongues and even before the invitations were sent everyone in the Shire knew of the impending wedding and had their own opinion of it. Most of the opinions she heard were negative denouncing the marriage as a bad match which she pretended to ignore for the sake of her babe.

For the most part she was happy. Her babe's future was secure and for that she would have fought a thousand orcs. Bungo was charming, well mannered, and kind and she found herself thinking of him more and more as the days went by. She began to look forward to her wedding day instead of dreading it as she had feared she would. She didn't love him with the same heat and fire she had for her first husband but that love had been doomed from the start. This love burned slow and warm, like a hearth fire, and she hoped it would endure and grow stronger. They did not wait long to get married with the babe's birth drawing closer with every day but their wedding was the elaborate affair all weddings were. They were married three months after the day he proposed outside under the sky and she wore a dress made to fit her growing body. They said their vows to each other according to the ways of the shire and shared their first kiss.

She felt the ceremony itself was beautiful though the reception had earned her ire with the amount of dirty looks and whispered insults she'd been on the receiving end of. Bungo had had his fair share of admirers who did not understand why such a high standing and handsome young hobbit would lower himself to marrying an unmarried pregnant woman with a love of those horrible adventures. Their comments had been full of back handed insults and thinly veiled threats that had her summoning every last inch of her patience. But she refused to lower herself to their level priding herself on taking the high road while secretly planning ways to get back at them that could not be traced back to her.

She was surprised when the celebration ended and Bungo had led her not to one of the small smials typically given to newlywed couples but to the end of Bagshot Row where he led her into a new smial that still smelled of felled wood, fresh polish, and paint. It was not just new it was huge taking up most of the hill and she had nearly cried seeing it, which she blamed on the pregnancy. Bungo had beamed at her with pride as she looked around her new home.

"It's called Bag End." He said and she couldn't answer she was having an attack of hormones.

They quickly grew into married life and though they annoyed each other at times they were happier than either of them thought they would be. Bungo took to married life and impending fatherhood like a duck took to water and though it often annoyed her he fussed over her endlessly. He made sure she was comfortable and well fed and took care of herself and she ensured that he kept on his toes. There were times that she missed her first husband but even though she thought of him she no longer held any true desire to go back to what she used to have. She was content with Bungo, more than content though she was too proud to admit it except in the quiet moments he held her at night.

Eventually her pregnancy had to come to an end and two months after they were married which was quite late for a hobbit, though she wasn't sure about a dwarf, Belladonna was woken in the dead of the night by pain and a gush of water. Bungo had panicked torn between fussing over her and pacing the floor with worry. She had to scream at him to get the midwife and when she did he spent almost an half an hour just leaving Bag End with all his fussing. When he did leave it seemed almost like a blink before he came back with the midwife and was kicked out of the room because of the fretting he put up. Belladonna was glad he'd left with all her screaming she feared she would have left him deaf. She screamed in pain and pushed when she was told to ignoring the pain in favor of the baby she'd carried for so long.

By the time her babe had come it was well into the next night and she was dizzy with pain and soaked with sweat. She vaguely heard the midwife tell her the babe she'd birthed was a boy because all that mattered was that her child was there in her arms. The midwife let her husband into the room and Bungo had looked as proud of the babe as she would have imagined he'd look over a child of his own seed. He sat down next to her on the bed smoothing over her hair with his hand as he looked over the babe in her arms with eyes wet with tears.

"It's a boy." Belladonna said with exhausted pride. "I've thought of the perfect name for him. Bilbo, Bilbo Baggins."

Bungo beamed at her pressing a kiss to her hair. He smiled down at the babe tears dripping down his cheeks. "Hello Bilbo."


	2. Chapter 2

_I do not own this book/movie at all. Now that that is out of the way please enjoy the story._

Bilbo was a loud babe with powerful lungs and a cry that could be heard throughout the Sire. Belladonna and Bungo both had feared that Bilbo would grow slowly and they would be too old to raise him before he even began to grow out of diapers. For being married to a dwarf Belladonna hadn't learned much about them. Her marriage was a short one and her husband was as secretive as the rest of his race. Bilbo however aged at the rate of a normal hobbit child if his growth was to be trusted and in two years' time her crying infant had grown into a very mobile toddler. His heritage gave her reason to worry about everything. Whenever he was ill she found herself sleepless with worry. Whenever he fell she checked him multiple times for bruises and cuts. Whenever she did find a wound she was paranoid that it would only grow worse and never go away. It took a long time for her to stop looking over her shoulder every second in fear of loosing him.

Years passed by seeming to fly and the crying babe Belladonna had held to her bosom that first night had become a starry eyed troublesome boy. Most days it was hard for Belladonna to believe that Bilbo was only half hobbit. He was so fussy it was hard to picture him as anything other than the son of Bungo Baggins and he was just as adventurous as she had been in her youth and still was. It seemed he'd inherited all his features from her, her brown copper curled hair, her oval face, her green as summer grass eyes, her large fuzzy hobbit feet, and her pointed hobbit ears. What he'd inherited from his father was harder to see and it was usually easy to overlook the little things. Like how he was muscular in ways hobbits never were and how he never quite developed the layer of fat the other hobbit children did instead developing a thick layer of body hair.

But some days his dwarf heritage was so prevalent in him she wondered how she could ever forget it. He liked to linger around the blacksmith mesmerized by the molten metal and the ways it could be forged into so many different things. He couldn't roughhouse with the other children because he was just too strong and they could easily get hurt by him. He never seemed to mind not being included in the games the other children played though. He was content to run out into the woods and chase fireflies and look for elves. He liked stone as much as he liked flowers and he never lost his way in the dark or ran into anything when he'd get up at night to escape nightmares or get a drink or late night snack. He was also heavy for one with so little fat. She could barely balance him on her hip anymore for fear of throwing out her back when the other mothers could usually balance a child of Bilbo's size on both hips.

He was a sturdy child and thick skinned too. He never cried when he was knocked down or hurt like the other children did. He would fall and then he would get right back up and run off like nothing had happened. Although his body was strong it became apparent early on that his health would be a cause for many sleepless nights for his parents. As strong as Bilbo was in body, his constitution was weak and he was prone to sickness. To his frustration and his parents fear it seemed he spent more time in bed than out of it. He spent many nights tossing and turning his skin burning with fever and many days sitting in bed with a bucket nearby. Bilbo always came through in the end even on those few nights his parents spent awake sobbing as he lay so near deaths door he almost went through. Bungo and Belladonna both tried to spend as much time as they could on those seemingly endless days nurturing Bilbo's love of stories with tales and songs and poetry on everything from the beauty of the sky to the great battles of men, elves, and dwarves.

He was never ignorant of his heritage even though Belladonna never told him the name of his birth father, for fear that should he ever learn his father's name he would leave the Shire to find him and never return, he knew of his half dwarf blood. He was ostracized by most of the other hobbits though he was the apple of his parents' eyes. The only hobbits who seemed to genuinely like him were Hamfast Gamgee and his parents and his grandparents on his mother's side of the family. He never seemed to feel the weight of disapproval that hung over him like a thundercloud. It would have been cruel of them to let him hear skewed versions of the truth from the gossiping older hobbits and their equally loose lipped children the circumstances of his birth. So when he was old enough to notice he was different from the other children and knew when to keep silent on certain matters they sat him down and told him the truth or at least as much of it as he could manage.

He wanted to be just like Bungo and Belladonna when he came into his majority and though he wondered about his birth father his heroes were the parents who raised him and Gandalf. Belladonna's old friend Gandalf the Grey stopped by often and Belladonna and Bilbo were always glad to see him though Bungo only tolerated the adventurer for his wife's sake. Belladonna was happy to see him because he was the only person besides her father and Bungo who knew the identity of her ex-husband and Bilbo was happy because the big person was full of stories that he loved telling. Bilbo followed after the old wizard endlessly asking for story after story of his adventures and travels. He was especially excited whenever he heard of dwarves and he made Gandalf promise to take him on an adventure no less than ten times at each visit. In the end, though he found himself fascinated at times by dwarven culture and the local blacksmith he was quite content to fully embrace his hobbit heritage. It was a true shame that the one time he did try to embrace the dwarf in him it had ended in tragedy. He shut away that part of him away for a long time after unable to move past his first true look at the cruelty of others.

The incident occurred when Bilbo was sixteen still in his youth but old enough to be an apprentice when he decided that he would learn be a blacksmith. He was grudgingly accepted as an apprentice by the local blacksmith known only as Soot along with Soot's son a heavy lad by the name of Stout. Bilbo spent his first few months at the smithy cleaning tools, polishing the wares, cleaning the shop, and stoking the fires. He did his chores well and without complaint and soon enough Soot began to teach him how to shape molten metal into things like nails, horse shoes, farm tools, and kitchenware. It soon became apparent that Bilbo was talented much more so than Stout was. So it was a shock for Belladonna to come home to find her boy who never shed a tear when he broke his arm at age seven climbing a tree sobbing into his arms at the kitchen table. Soot had declared Bilbo's work excellent but his presence bad for business.

She had listened as Bilbo spoke between sobs and hiccups how everything he had worked so hard on had been melted down in the smelters fire. Everything even the hairpins he was making for her and the letter opener he'd made for his father. She let him cry himself out and when he'd cleaned himself up she sent him over to the Old Tooks to visit his grandfather. The next day if all of Soots tools were missing and his ores were ruined by badly mixed metals she wasn't going to say anything. She knew of a very fine blacksmith in Bree who sold very good merchandise at affordable enough prices. Needless to say Soot never got any business from the Baggins of Bag End or the Old Took again.

Letting Bilbo completely forget his true bloodline over the stupidity of another never sat well with either of his parents and after discussing it for a while they agreed to give Bilbo the beads from his mother's courtship and marriage. The two pale wood and gold beads were placed on a delicate looking but sturdy golden chain, a gift from Belladonna's previous husband that he insisted she keep. Bilbo had been mesmerized when he'd seen them and although Belladonna would have liked to braid them into his hair, she was unsure about the customs and thought the chain safer. Bilbo wore them constantly from the moment they were given to him never taking them off even when he bathed. It was the only way either of his parents knew that he'd accepted that part of himself.

After that incident Bilbo became more and more aware of the judging glances and words of the other hobbits. The taunts of 'Halfling' and 'Soft Foot', those sadly being the kindest, followed him everywhere now that he cared enough to listen. Insults that had never before stung kept him lying awake at night. He stayed in his home and resolved to make himself the most respectable hobbit in the Shire. He started to put his adventures and dreams of going on a quest with Gandalf behind him. The days of him vanishing into the woods to look for elves had passed and he began to emulate Bungo more than he ever had. Time passed and Bilbo became more and more of a respectable hobbit until he was only looked down upon for his mixed blood in private. He became affluent in writing and languages spending more time indoors with books and maps his adventures were no longer lived outside in the woods but inside the pages of books. He cooked alongside his parents memorizing all the family recipes until he recited them in his sleep. By the time he turned twenty he was the most mature and respectable of his peers.

He learned to care for Bag End and he never missed or was late to supper. He threw parties and guests came some because they genuinely liked them and others just to see if a half dwarf could throw a decent party. Which he did by the way, it soon became apparent that Bilbo Baggins threw quite excellent parties, though the naysayers placed all the credit for the success on Bungo's shoulders. When Bilbo went outside now he cared for the garden alongside his parents and the Gamgee's who had been their gardeners for ages. Belladonna despaired the loss of his adventurous spirit even as his father praised him for growing up and beginning to take responsibility.

He was reluctantly accepted by the other hobbits until the year he turned twenty six and the winter came and refused to leave. The Fell Winter had fallen over the Shire and snow and ice spread over the ground in a blanket that grew thicker and thicker with each passing day. The hobbits all stayed holed up in their smials as they waited for spring, but spring did not come that year. Instead the winter raged on and the cold grew colder. Hobbits began to ration their supplies, but a life of plenty had led to them woefully unprepared to go without, for the first time in generations hunger had reached the hobbits. The lack of food left them weak and the bounders and farmers began to go out and gather what they could from the frozen earth and deserted forests. Some hobbits made the trip to Bree to fetch food they never returned.

Bilbo fell sick soon into the winter and he spent much of that time either curled up in front of the fire or moaning with fever in his bed. He had a cough that would not go away and he could barely keep down the warm broth he was given. Months passed but his condition neither worsened nor improved and ill though he was he helped out where he could. Into the beginning of the second year of the fell winter Bungo also fell sick unable to even get up from bed and Bilbo's poor health began to deteriorate. Fearing for her husband and child's lives Belladonna decided to head to Bree to fetch medicines. She took out her traveling cloak and the dagger her ex-husband had given her and left Bag End for Bree. In the week after she left wolves were heard in the distance and day by day were heard closer and closer to the Shire. Belladonna never returned to Bag End.

Many hobbits died when the wolves reached the Shire that week. The Brandywine River had frozen over and their best defense against invasion was lost. Wolves and orcs were able to enter the once peaceful lands. Anyone foolish or desperate enough to leave the safety of their smials were torn apart by the starving wolves or orcs. Even the smials were not safe as wolves dug into the hills and unearthed the hobbits and orcs burst down the doors. All hope seemed lost for the hobbits until the Rangers and Gandalf came and with magic and show of force drove the vile beasts away. It was too late for many of the hobbits and though those that were left were able to last until spring finally came at the end of the second year with the help of the Rangers and Gandalf the losses were devastating. Especially for Bilbo the Fell Winter had stolen away both of his parents. The sickness and heartache had been too much for Bungo and he passed away before the spring returned.

Things did not improve for Bilbo, with the loss of his parents he was left to inherit Bag End. It should have been a simple matter but some among his relations believed that Bag End should be given to a Baggins and although Bilbo was a Baggins by name he was not a Baggins by birth and they protested vocally. The law was on their side in one way, Bilbo could not inherit anything until he became of age, but Bag End was made for Belladonna with money from both the Baggins' and the Tooks. The Thain declared that when he was of age Bilbo would be able to inherit as long as no one who had a right to claim it claimed it before him. Bilbo's Grandfather the Thain took Bilbo under his wing and decided to let him live in and care for Bag End until he reached his majority and he could take rightful ownership of it. His hardship had not ended for when Bilbo was twenty eight the Old Took passed away peacefully in his sleep.

Bilbo barely had time to mourn the loss of his last protector before the vultures that called themselves his relations, specifically the loathsome Sackville-Baggins' Otho and Lobelia, descended upon him with the lawyers on their side. With double talk and the help of lawyers that knew more about law than Bilbo ever stood a chance of knowing he'd been challenged for his right to inherit. It seemed to him that all the hobbits of the Shire that had never approved of the half dwarf in their midst worked together to get Bag End into what they believed to be proper hobbit hands. In the end it was declared that Bilbo had less than six months' time to find a new home and move out of Bag End. He ran to Gandalf who had not left the Shire yet to beg for his help.

"Gandalf!" The young hobbit cried hoarsely, still slightly sick but improving with every day, as he ran after the big person in the grey robes and large pointed hat on a cart bound for the world outside the Shire. "Gandalf! Gandalf!"

The cart slowed to a stop and Bilbo scrambled to get onto a cart that was much too big for someone like him to reach easily. Once he'd gotten up onto the too large seat he settled down next to the big person and threw his arms around his waist sobbing into the older mans' robes. "They're taking Bag End from me! I won't have a home and I'll have to live on the street and no one will take me in! I've lost my mother and father and grandfather and now my home!"  
>Gandalf comforted the boy as best he could hugging him and patting his back and telling him 'things will get better' and 'you'll be alright' until his sobs turned into hiccups and sniffles. Once Bilbo had cried himself out he uncurled his acing fingers from where they had been curled in a death grip in Gandalf's robes and wiped his face off and blew his nose, in that order, with his handkerchief. Gandalf smiled down at the young half hobbit with a sad kind of smile.<p>

"I'm afraid that I have other matters to attend to now my dear boy and I won't be back in the Shire for some time. Nonetheless I promise that I will return to the Shire before you are forced to leave and I will help you to save your home. So cheer up, a wizard always keeps his word."  
>"You promise." Bilbo asked sounding much younger than a hobbit of his age should sound.<p>

"I promise. Now go on home unless you'd like go away for a while and leave your home to the Sackville Baggins'." He said with a mischievous smile.

"Never!" Bilbo said with a grin as he got down from the cart. "Goodbye Mr. Gandalf."

"Goodbye Bilbo. Take care!" The wizard said with a wave as he got the horses moving the cart again with a flick of the reigns.

_The prologue is now over and now that the story has officially started it will flow more naturally so you'll see more dialogue and fewer time skips. Bilbo starts his adventure at age twenty nine instead of age fifty. I needed him to be too young to claim his inheritance for a hobbit by several years so he had a viable reason to lose his house, but still old enough to pull off looking of age. By hobbit standards he's only a few years away from being declared an adult but for dwarf standards he's practically a baby (this is a colloquial term where I am from and basically means he's very young, not a baby in the literal sense i decided to clear that up as it seems to be a cause of confusion) and should not be living on his own or going anywhere near a quest at all. Another factor is that Bilbo has been aged by grief and stress so he looks older than he is so he can be easily mistaken as being older._

_Another change I made for the sake of plot is the rate and measurement of dwarf aging. In this tale dwarves seem to age at about the rate of men for the first few years of their lives, a mountain is a dangerous place for small children so they do not stay small long, they look like adults when they are still young children. The beard is a sign of maturity and dwarves are not considered adults until stubble develops. As for why Bilbo is so sickly he's a hybrid between two similar but very different species not two people of a different race. I feel that health issues would be a viable issue for a half hobbit half dwarf to have. I saw a part where the words I'd written about Belladonna's beads had been cut off but I've edited them back in to flow better.  
><em>

_Sorry for the super long authors note but I felt it best to get this stuff out there so things make sense later on in the story. _

_Thank yous to everyone, who read, reviewed, followed, and/or favorited. _


	3. Chapter 3

_I do not own this book/movie at all. Now that that is out of the way please enjoy the story._

Bilbo sat on the bench outside watching the morning sun begin to spread its fingers over the Shire. The wind blew a refreshing breeze and the smell of flowers drifted up from the garden. This was the most at peace he'd felt since Gandalf had left, this quiet early morning before even the birds had begun to wake. After Gandalf left the Shire Bilbo's high spirits had not lasted a day before they had broken. He'd mourned heavily these past few months, barely eating or drinking and he'd only rarely gotten out of bed. So much had been lost to him in such a short time and he was no were near prepared to handle loss of any kind let alone at this scale.

Four months ago they had had held a mass funeral for those that had been lost in the Fell Winter. Bilbo felt that his parents and grandfather did not get the funeral he believed they deserved but none that were lost in the Fell Winter did. The ceremony was long as they listed the names of the dead with a prayer, sang the song of mourning, and buried their dead. None were unaffected and none were strong enough to do more than that for their loved ones. Bilbo spent hours kneeling over their graves weeping with others who had lost loved ones. He resolved to be strong and make them proud that day but his heart was not strong enough to let him keep that promise.

The months following the funeral were rough. Bilbo often woke up in the middle of the night crying out for his parents every time he managed to find sleep, so often did he dream of them. He'd run to the kitchen or the study thinking he'd heard his mother singing or his father moaning over the state of his beloved books only to collapse in heartbroken agony when the rooms were empty. He chased phantoms of his family through his house and cried every time he realized that his mind was playing tricks on him and he was still alone. Bag End was too silent and too loud all at once, too full of memories that were deprived of substance. Even so he knew deep down that it would break him more to leave. Bilbo had only just barely pulled through the depression that still threatened to take his mind when he walked through a too quiet home and sat down at a table set for one.

Other changes had happened with the loss of all he'd had. He'd fallen ill again, but this time he was alone with no stories to be heard and no songs to be sung to remind him that he would pull through. It took more out of him than he thought he'd had but he managed to work through the sickness and get better again. After he had recovered from his sickness, perhaps it was a shallow thing for him to notice in the wake of everything else, Bilbo had seen that he looked old now. His face was lined and his eyes burdened with the depths of pain that made his young eyes look old. It had been a shocking thing for him to look in the mirror to see the face of a stranger. It was another hard blow in a time when he'd been hit so hard already, but he pulled through and he found himself healing in a most unexpected way.

He found release cleaning Bag End and restocking the larders to prepare it for another owner, Lobelia was quite a pushy hobbit when she set her mind to it, the week before his first peaceful morning since the Fell Winter ended. The smial had gotten quite filthy with only one mourning hobbit to tend to it and there was much dusting, shining, sweeping, and moping to be done. The chores that had so long gone undone had become a balm to the hobbit. The small repetitive actions pulling his mind away from the hurt had helped him in more ways than he knew. Cleaning the things that belonged to his parents he'd found himself smiling at the fond memories they held and slowly at first though it quickly gained momentum he began to feel cheerful again. He sometimes even found himself stopping in the middle of a chore at the sound of whistling only to find that he was the one who had whistled. Cleaning had helped him realize that his parents were still with him, if not in person than in spirit. Their love would never leave him and now that that had dawned to him he was able to care for the world outside his grief again.

He sighed as the first birds began to sing their song and he nearly cried for the beauty of it. He knew he would never forget his mother, his father, or his grandfather, but he also knew he could not mourn forever. He still ached for them still yearned to hear their voices and see their faces in reality instead of dreams or drawings but today their memory did not inspire the heart deep ache he'd gotten so used to feeling. Instead he felt light in a way, and their memories inspired small smiles that promised to grow in time. He sat back, closed his eyes, and just listened, taking in the early morning believing that things were going to get better.

It was that moment that his luck had decided to prove that it was a fickle thing and give him the start of what would become either the best or the worst thing to ever happen to him, though at the time Bilbo was inclined to think it the worst. The most important instance of Bilbo's life began in a quite ordinary way with a large shadow blocking out the pleasant light and heat from the morning sun. He blinked away the sudden darkness and looked up, nearly straining his neck doing so, to see the towering form of Gandalf the Grey with his grey robes, tall pointed grey hat, and wild silvery grey hair and beard towering over him.

"Good morning." Bilbo chirped even as he frowned at the older man who was blocking his light tough inside he was happy, delighted even, to see the older man even though a week ago the sight of the man would have set him in tears that would have lasted until he had no tears left in him. It was a good sign that he had finally healed enough to enjoy the company of his friend.

"What do you mean by that? Are you wishing me a good morning, or do you mean that it is a good morning whether I want it or not, or that you feel good on this morning, or that it is a morning to be good on?" The wizard asked the questions with a quizzical tone that the hobbit felt no one else could pull off half as well as Gandalf if they tried. He would have been willing to bet his best buttons that Gandalf was smirking into that ridiculous beard of his from the way he'd asked those questions.

The small hobbit looked at him skeptically for a minute before answering with a wry turn of his lips. "You always ask me those questions Gandalf. In fact if I recall correctly every time I say 'good morning' to you no matter how I say it you ask me those same questions. Then no matter how I choose to answer it you always look at me like you can't believe how stupid what I just said was." Bilbo said nearly laughing, for the first time in months, before he sighed in a fashion that he knew was overdramatic. "But if you must know my answer then I would say that I mean all of them at once." He then gave the wizard a smile that was almost cheeky. "Good morning."

Gandalf gave a laugh that sounded more like a coughing fit than anything joyful. "I am glad to see you are doing well Bilbo. These last few years have been harder on you than those that came before. You've been changed by this Bilbo and though things have been hard for you lately there is no reason to believe that things will not get better. It is nice to see you again."

Bilbo smiled up at his often frustrating and enigmatic friend. "And it is nice to see you too." He gestured to the door of Bag End with both hands. "Would you like to come in and join me for breakfast?" He perked up himself at the mention of breakfast.

Gandalf politely waved the request off though. "No Bilbo I am afraid I have some other matters to see to first, but I will be back in time for supper to discuss the matter of saving your home with you."

"So you know of a way to save Bag End?" The Hobbit asked sounding younger than he looked as he often did when he was excited.

Gandalf smiled down at him. "I did promise you that I would help you save your home and a wizard always keeps his promises."

"Thank you." The small hobbit exclaimed with a hug around the wizards legs. Gandalf petted his head earning a scowl from the hobbit and a smile from the wizard.

"It is nice to see you but I won't keep you from the business you have to attend to." Bilbo said as he stepped away from the wizard in part to get away from the assault on his curls. He casually walked to his mailbox and took out his mail, though it was certainly not to prevent another attack on his head. He gave Gandalf one last friendly good morning and walked toward his house sorting through the mail frowning as most of it was unfortunately from either the Sackville-Baggins' or their lawyers. He walked through the front door into his living room, shutting the door behind him as he did, and stopped as he heard a slight scratching noise at the door. Stopping Gandalf from doing whatever it was that he was doing would be impossible and pointless but he still found himself peeking out the window to see what the wizard was doing. His view wasn't very good though so he ended up with nothing more than a view of the wizard's side as he bent down in front of the door. Bilbo shook his head and decided to go ahead and have his breakfast.

After he ate he decided not to waste his time and he cleaned up quickly and decided to get ready for supper. He looked through the pantry and the ice chest looking for something suitable. He found some fish that he remembered Gandalf liked and decided that a trip through the garden would provide a nice salad to go with it and he gathered what he would need. He put the fish in an ice chest closer to the kitchen so that he could reach it easily later. He gathered the wine that his mother and father had favored whenever they entertained guests. He walked into one of the storage rooms his mother had set aside for big people and one at a time he got out things he felt he would need and moved them into the dining room. He got down a wine glass for Gandalf to drink from, a mug in case he did not want wine, a plate that was of a better size for a big person, a set of silverware that was a proper size, and lastly a chair that would be comfortable for him to sit in.

With that done he spent the rest of the day gathering the letters from the lawyers and other documents he would need, eating his meals, and doing some cleaning around the house. He managed to get everything ready and prepared for supper, just in time, and waited on Gandalf to arrive. But Gandalf never knocked on his door or came in uninvited like he was wont to do. Instead Bilbo was left waiting until late into the night. He changed into more comfortable clothing as he cursed the rudeness of wizards under his breath. He gathered his cold supper and resolved to eat Gandalf's portion too reheating it and sitting down at the table to enjoy his very late supper.

The instant he managed to settle down there was a ring of his doorbell and he grumbled as he took the napkin from his collar and threw it on the table. He got up from his chair and walked up to the door ready to give Gandalf a firm talking to about the importance of arriving on time when you set an appointment as to a hobbit there was nothing so rude as to let your hosts good hot food go cold by dawdling. He opened the door a scolding ready to leap off his tongue and he promptly swallowed his words. There was a dwarf at Bag End! A tall, for a dwarf, and imposing dwarf with a head that was bald on top with long hair growing where the baldness ended at the sides and back of his head stood at his front door. He was wearing thick traveling clothes in all shades of brown and his eyes were a piercing shade of blue. He had a beard that somehow managed to look wild and well-trimmed all at once and an intimidating manner. There was an impressive scar over his eyebrow but the only thing that registered to Bilbo was a question. Why was there a dwarf at his house?

"Dwalin at your service." The imposing dwarf said with a bow revealing impressive looking, for the size of them, metal cuffs on his ears and a voice that while deep and rough did not seem to be as deep and rough as the hobbit had imagined it would be before he spoke.

Bilbo blinked up at him before he noticed that the patchwork robe he was wearing was wide open. He blushed slightly as he pulled it closed and tied it off. "Bilbo Baggins at yours." He said with a slight mumble awkwardly.

The dwarf pushed past him seeming to take the open door as an invitation to enter and Bilbo had to jump back so that he didn't get bowled over, which was quite rude of the dwarf. "Excuse me but do we know each other?" He asked stumbling over the words at the embarrassment and confusion he felt.

The dwarf looked at him with his face scrunched as he replied with a word Bilbo did not want to hear from a stranger barging into his house. "No."

The dwarf strode through the halls like he owned the house removing his travel cloak holding it as he looked around the house. "Which way Laddie? Is it down here?" The dwarf asked and Bilbo finally remembered to shut the door. Which he almost managed until the dwarf threw the cloak at him.

"Which way to what? What is down here?" The hobbit asked his confusion and frustration growing more and more potent by the second.

"Is what down here?" Bilbo asked beginning to fear that Gandalf had done something. His mother had told him stories like this, where strangers showed up seemingly invited by another, and it was usually the work of a certain wizard.

"Supper. He said there would be food and lots of it." The dwarf said looking as excited about the prospect of food as a hobbit would be about the subject.

"Supper? What food?" The hobbit asked even as his frustration and confusion were being drowned under the weight of a childhood being taught good manners. "He… He said. Who's he?"

That is how Bilbo came to find himself watching as Dwalin ate his supper and mumbled appreciatively while doing so. The fish he had fried and the bread he had made to share with Gandalf instead went to the dwarf. To Bilbo it seemed as though his mystery guest was the most interesting thing that would happen that night, little did Bilbo know that this unexpected party would not be a party of one. In fact this day was about to become the tipping point of his entire life for with the start of this unexpected party his life had come down to an unexpected choice. A choice that would change his life forever no matter what he decided.

_For anyone who missed it on the last chapter I realized that a sentence had been partially cut so the part where I described the courtship and marriage beads was cut off. I'm putting it here so that anyone who wants to know what the beads looked like doesn't have to search through the last chapter to find it. _

Letting Bilbo completely forget his true bloodline over the stupidity of another never sat well with either of his parents and after discussing it for a while they agreed to give Bilbo the beads from his mother's courtship and marriage. The two pale wood and gold beads were placed on a delicate looking but sturdy golden chain, a gift from Belladonna's previous husband that he insisted she keep.

_Regarding a review I've received and in remaining true to what I said on my profile, that when I make a mistake and you point it out I will fix it, I have decided not to change what I've done as far as dwarf culture and ageing are concerned. This is an AU work and I have mentioned in the authors notes before that I have made changes for the sake of plot. I am also sticking mostly to movie continuity because as of now I know it better. I will be using elements from both the movies and the book as the story progresses but for the main part I will be sticking to movie continuity. I was also informed by another party that dwarves come of age at seventy two and due to research I have done I have accepted it as cannon to this story line and to any other works I do regarding the Hobbit and/or Lord of the Rings. Thank yous to everyone, who read, reviewed, followed, and/or favorited_


	4. Chapter 4

_I do not own this show at all. Now that that is out of the way please enjoy the story._

Bilbo's stomach complained as he watched the dwarf eat, though thankfully the growling wasn't loud enough for the dwarf to hear. It was upsetting for the hobbit to watch another eat his meal but his overly proper hobbit manners demanded he let his guest eat first and this was the only thing he had ready. He found himself staring at the tattoos on the bald parts of his head more than what was proper but he'd never seen tattoos before and he wondered if the language the marks were in was dwarven. Dwalin finished the meals and Bilbo blanched when he actually ate the head of the fish with noises that no hobbit would dare make at the dinner table in fear of a tongue lashing from their parents. The dwarf didn't lick the plate like Bilbo feared he would when he was finished though he did make more of the appreciative noises he'd made since he'd started eating before he said. "Very good this. Any more?"

Bilbo's lips twisted in a grimace the words not registering for a moment before he mumbled. "Oh any more. Yes." He grabbed the seed cakes from the window where he'd set them to cool and discreetly placed one in the pocket of his robe to nibble on later when he did not have a hungry guest to attend to. He held out the plate from the dwarf admonishing him. "Please help yourself."

He stood there for a bit swaying back and forth with his hands behind his back and it was painfully obvious from his expression that he was searching for words to say or perhaps the order in which to say them. He turned so that he could say what he wanted, no needed to say before he could be interrupted again. "It's just that…" He paused searching for the right words. "I wasn't expecting any company and I do not want to seem…"

He was cut off by the ringing of his doorbell and his eyes narrowed at the rudeness of it, ringing someone's doorbell at this time of night. The dwarf, Dwalin looked up at him from under his eyebrows and on that face the otherwise innocent expression seemed menacing as he asked. "That'll be the door." And when the hobbit didn't immediately leave to answer it he asked. "Are you going to get that?"

So the hobbit ran to the door and opened it to see another dwarf, this one old enough to have greying hair already turning white, waiting on him. He had a nice beard and it was well-trimmed, though it was styled a bit oddly reminding Bilbo of a drawing of a whale's tail he'd made when he was younger and his skills at drawing were much poorer. He was wearing traveling clothes that looked to be well taken care of as well as well used. The thing that truly stuck out to Bilbo most though was his nose which was much larger than those he was used to seeing and in the hobbits opinion looked like a lumpy arrow pointing down at his beard. "Balin at your service." The dwarf bowed with both hands stretched out as he laughed with a voice that was aged but somehow youthful and cheerful.

"Good evening." Bilbo said stiffly with a bow that was more an afterthought than a good host's should be. But Bilbo did not feel like a host when his guests invited themselves in such an improper way.

"Yes, yes it is." The dwarf said nodding his head. "Though I think it might rain later." He continued walking into Bilbo's house and Bilbo quickly formed the opinion that to a dwarf an open door was an invite in, which might explain a few things actually. As a child he'd never been able to resist the temptation of an open door. The dwarf looked around curious and he looked to have a question on his tongue. "Am I late?"

"Late for what?" Bilbo asked though he never got the answer for almost as soon as he asked the dwarf exclaimed with a loud 'Oh' and waltzed into the living room where the other dwarf had his overlarge hands in Bilbo's biscuit jar with a laugh. Dwalin laughed in return and they circled each other with such posturing and fondness that even for their insults which were playful in tone no one could confuse it as a threat.

"Evening brother." The shorter older one said with a laugh that was dangerously close to a cackle as he approached the tall dwarf that seeing the other placed the biscuit jar back on the shelf.

"By my beard you're shorter and wider than last we met." Dwalin said with a smirk and even had neither of them said it he would have known them for brothers for they had the brotherly look about them that he had never gotten to experience himself but had seen often enough among his numerous peers.

"Wider not shorter." Balin said in a tone that was clearly serious in a teasing sort of way. "Sharp enough for both of us." He said with a wink.

Dwalin took his brothers shoulder in his hands laughing and winced in sympathy when they suddenly slammed their heads together and pulled away still laughing. He walked toward them but kept his distance trying and failing to get their attention. "Uh excuse me the thing is I'm not entirely sure you're in the right house. I am fond of having guests but I don't know who you are and you're not listening to me." The hobbit said annoyed. "It's not like I don't like visitors, I like visitors as much as the next hobbit but I like to know my visitors before they decide to come over visiting."

Bilbo followed the two dwarves to his larder complaining and arguing his case all the way even though he was certain that the dwarves were either ignoring him or had a horribly rude case of selective hearing. He watched growing angrier and more annoyed with every passing moment as they helped themselves to the contents of his cupboards. They insulted his food and ate in the larder, a habit that was frowned upon at best and gossiped about and got you kicked out of every party at worst. They laughed and threw things and drank his father's alcohol. They engaged in idle chit chat and claimed that the Shires famous blue cheese had gone bad complaining about the mold all while Bilbo just continued on with his tirade ending with. "I don't know either of you, not in the slightest. I don't mean to be blunt I'm sorry."

The two dwarves turned to him confused and then the older one had the audacity to accept his apology like he was the one invading people's houses and stealing from their larders. Bilbo was just about to give them a piece of his mind when a ringing noise sounded throughout the house. He turned at the sound of what could only be the doorbell with horror on his face and decided that he hated the noise even as he ran to the door again. He opened the door to see another two dwarves who looked much younger than the dwarves raiding his pantry.

"Fili." The blonde with the braided mustache said.

"And Kili." The brunette haired dwarf continued.

"At your service." They both finished with a bow and Bilbo could tell that his house had been invaded by another pair of brothers. The both of them were obviously related as they had the same face shape and though Fili had a larger nose than Kili they were both the same. They had a matching youthful swagger and deep voices that had a youthful tone and a playfulness to it that had Bilbo thinking he should check his bed later to see if they put snakes in it. They were both wearing well-worn but well care for traveling clothes and Bilbo was beginning to think that every dwarf he'd meet in his life would wear such clothing.

"You must be Mr. Boggins." The dark haired one said and Bilbo got the idea he was younger. He tried to come in and Bilbo tried to close the door but failed as the dwarf leaned his weight into it.

"No you can't come I you've come to the wrong house!" The hobbit yelled as he tried to push the dwarf out.

"Has it been canceled?" Kili asked confused.

"No one told us." Fili chimed in and Bilbo hoed he didn't join his brother in attempting to enter the smial by force.

"Canceled! Nothing's been canceled." Bilbo yelled and he was far too upset to care about manners.

That's a relief." Kili said looking excited as he pushed the door open like Bilbo wasn't even in there and both the young dwarves entered his house with a swagger in their steps.

Fili took off his swords and tossed them into Bilbo's hands. "Careful with these I just had them sharpened."

"It's nice this place." Kili said as he stomped around Bilbo's house. "Did you do it yourself?" He asked right before he scraped off the mud from his boots on a wooden box.

"No my father built it." Bilbo said as he looked at the swords in his arms. He looked over at Kili. "That's my mother's glory box could you please not do that."

Dwalin walked into the hall and grabbed Kili around the shoulders with his arm. "Fili, Kili come on and give us a hand."

"Mr. Dwalin." Kili said with a smile as he was led away. They walked to the dining room where Balin was.

"Let's move this into the hall or we'll never fit anyone in." Balin said with a slight gesture to the table.

"Everyone!" Bilbo said with the beginnings of panic in his voice.

The doorbell rang again and it kept ringing for longer than it should have. "No! No! There's nobody home!" Bilbo yelled as threw down the weapons in his arms truly mad now as he stormed over to the door. "Go away and bug somebody else. There are far too many dwarves in my dining room as it is. If this is some clothead's idea of a joke I can only say that it is in very poor taste!" Bilbo finished as he unlatched the door and threw it open.

He stepped back as a lot of dwarves fell over in a pile on his floor complaining and yelling at each other at they were crushed by the weight of the pile. Gandalf leaned down and smiled at him from behind the pile.

"Gandalf." Bilbo said with barely restrained anger.

"Ah Bilbo allow me to introduce our company." Gandalf said pointing at each dwarf in turn and Bilbo only had a few seconds to gather a way to remember them. "This is Bofur." Impossible mustache and furry hat. "His brother Bombur." Red hair mustache beard braided into a loop and incredibly fat. "Their cousin Bifur." The axe head in his skull and the wild grey and black hair. "Dori." With grey hair and intricate braiding. "His brother Nori." Red hair in a strange pointed pattern that reminded Bilbo of a star. "Their brother Ori." Young looking with a bowl cut and brown hair. "Gloin." Who had a long bushy red beard with many braids in it. "And lastly his brother Oin." Who had a grumpy looking face and white hair with a braided beard that resembled a fish tail.

"Did the others arrive already?" Gandalf asked.

"If you are talking about the dwarves in my kitchen then yes." Bilbo said flatly.

It seemed that it was in the habits of dwarves to be rude guests who looted other people's houses for he was soon running to and fro trying to prevent them from eating him out of house and home and moving furniture that wasn't supposed to be touched let alone used so carelessly. His halls were full of dwarves and there he was rushing from room to room trying to stop them from picking up his knick-knacks and disturbing his mother's doilies with dirty fingers until he was just about ready to scream. They sat at his table and fully cleaned out his entire lauder. One of the dwarves, it took him a second to remember the name Bombur , took all of his cheese out of the pantry and Bilbo asked if he had a cheese knife only to be told by another dwarf, Bofur that he ate it by the block. He heard snippets of conversation that ended whenever he came close and the subjects spoken of sent ice down his back. They wasted food, which was practically a criminal offence in the Shire, by throwing it at each other.

"One seems to be missing." Gandalf said to himself and Bilbo paled at the thought of having another rude guest.

Fili passed by him and said. "Uncle Thorin is still meeting with the Dwarves from the Iron Hills, he won't arrive until tomorrow."

Ori walked up to him and asked him in what was perhaps the only kind thing done in the smial that night. "Excuse me but what do you want me to do with my plate?"

"Here I'll take that." Kili said as he walked by and suddenly Bilbo's dishes were flying through the air being bounced off of dwarves. Bilbo's panicked rambles did nothing to stop them. The kicker though came when they started to bang the nice silverware on the tables and if he had known what would happen next he would have kept his mouth shut. "Can you not do that you'll blunt them."

"Did you hear that boys he says we'll blunt the knives." Bofur of the funny hat asked from his spot at the table. They began to stop their feet and hit the knives and forks together.

That was when the singing threats of destroying his property and the throwing of his dishes started. Kili began it with. "Blunt the knives and bend the forks."

"Break the bottles and burn the corks." Fili continued

And suddenly all the dwarves joined in like it had been rehearsed. "Chip the glasses and break the plates, that's what Bilbo Baggins hates."

Bilbo couldn't hear the rest of the song he was so busy panicking and rushing from one dwarf to another trying to prevent them from destroying his property. He ran himself ragged only to find that all of his dishes had ended up washed and stacked in a precarious pile on the table where Gandalf was seated smiling with mischief.

"Gandalf can I talk to you for a moment?" Bilbo asked his voice strained as the dwarves continued their inspection of the house.

"Yes." Gandalf said with a slight smile that Bilbo knew well enough to know that Gandalf was plotting something. "What about?"

"Not here. The study." Bilbo said gesturing toward the study. Gandalf nodded and Bilbo led Gandalf into the study. He shut the door behind him and with a pop of his ears he knew that Gandalf had made it so no one outside the room could hear them. The hobbit whirled on the wizard with fire in his eyes. "Why are there dwarves in my house?"

"There's always been at least one dwarf in Bag End. Now what is the matter." Gandalf said with a bit of a laugh. Bilbo however did not join him in laughing.

"No Gandalf don't you dare try and distract me. The matter is that my house is practically infested with dwarves. Did you see the state of my kitchen? They pillaged the pantry. They threw my plates, they tracked mud in everywhere and practically ground it into the carpet, they threatened violence against my property, they destroyed every room they went into, they have no respect for people's privacy, and you don't even want to know what they have done to the plumbing. I may never be able to unclog that toilet."

"I find that this quite a merry gathering and you will enjoy yourself once you get used to them." Gandalf said clearly amused with Bilbo's distress.

"Well I don't want to get used to them, bother and confuseicate those dwarves. I have no idea how I could be related to any of them." Bilbo shouted his anger making him flustered.

"Now Bilbo is that any way to act around guests?" Gandalf asked sounding patronizing without even trying.

"Uninvited guests." Bilbo snapped. "Now tell me what is going on because I heard whispers of dragons and quests and burglars and mountains of gold now what did you tell them?" Bilbo asked the wizard seriously his hands on his hips even as he scowled at the wizard. Bofur winced as he huddled in the cupboard hidden from sight and he hadn't meant to spy he'd only been looking for the water closet. The two seemed to be unaware of him and he really didn't want to pop out now and reveal himself. The hobbit looked truly angry and not just flustered but it was the wizard that truly worried him, the wizard who had just discretely winked in his direction while the halfling's back was turned.

"I told them the truth and that is all you need know." Gandalf said as he sent a smoke ring floating leisurely through the room as though he was speaking of the weather and not whatever it was the hobbit seemed to be fretting over. The smoke ring hit the door he was crouching behind and he knew for sure that the wizard had spotted him for some of it survived meeting the door and managed to slip in to annoy him. It was a good thing he was a miner and used to such discomfort or he would have given himself away coughing.

The little hobbit was glaring now and if a look had the power to fell a person the wizard would have dropped dead but looks held no such power and instead the wizard simply smiled like he would at a very young child who didn't know any better. "I may not know much of dwarves but I am not ignorant Gandalf. I know that if they knew how old I was they would never allow me to join this fool's errand of a quest. So what truths did you tell them?" The Halfling asked flatly his face creased in his anger

The wizard gave a short bark of a laugh that crinkled his eyes in a manner that revealed a mischievous spark in them. "I merely mentioned that a good age for a hobbit to go on an adventure was fifty. On another occasion I claimed that you were mature enough to go on the quest. It is no fault of mine if the Company did not seek any more information than that. In fact the fault lies on them, but it is a useful oversight nonetheless."

Bofur almost had to physically restrain himself from yelling at the wizard and from the look on Gandalf's face the wizard knew it too.

"I am not fifty Gandalf, I'm not even thirty, I am twenty nine, and do you think that they would find that a useful oversight." The hobbit said in a manner that was not shrill thank you, pacing a bit as though to walk off his growing fury. "I am not even of age for a hobbit let alone a dwarf." He mumbled under his breath into his crossed arms tough both the wizard and the dwarf heard it.

"Age and maturity are not the same thing and you should know that better than anyone Bilbo Baggins." Gandalf said with iron in his voice

Bilbo held his head with one hand shaking his head as he did so. "That is not the issue here Gandalf, you promised me, you promised that you would help me save Bag End! You gave me your word and now you've come here dragging dwarves into my home expecting me to run off on an adventure never to return. No you said you'd help me save my home so help me save it!"

Gandalf sighed, the sound long and low in a way only the big people who were very old could ever manage to make. "If I could save Bag End for you I would do it, but I am a wizard not a lawyer and my reputation around the Shire does not lend me much credibility in the eyes of most around here. In this matter I am afraid my hands are well and truly tied, but I did not lie to you Bilbo. Bag End may be your home but it is not the only home you have. I have promised you two things my boy to save your home and to take you on an adventure. I intend to do both."

"No Bag End is my home I was born here I was raised here this is where I belong. I refuse to swan off and leave the only place I have any right to." Bilbo shouted his voice was beginning to waver with tears.

"You have just as much right to Erebor as any dwarf." Gandalf said shooting out of his chair to stand and slamming the end of his staff on the floor as if to punctuate the statement with the bang.

"I am not a dwarf!" The small halfling yelled tears leaking out of his eyes of their own accord.

"By that right you are not a hobbit either." The wizard said sounding like a grumpy old man dealing with an impertinent youth, and perhaps in this matter that is exactly what he was.

"Do you think I don't know that?" The question was tinged in bitterness and so was the short laugh that was closer to being sobs than the hobbit would ever be willing to admit. "I'm not a hobbit and I don't belong in the Shire, I know that Gandalf! But I can't leave Bag End it's all I have left."

"Oh Bilbo you have so much more than you know." Gandalf said as he pulled the hobbit into a hug. The hobbit struggled a bit but relented and let himself be pulled into the wizards arms. Gandalf handed the crying boy a handkerchief he pulled out from somewhere in his robes. It took a long time for the hobbit to stop sobbing. The hobbit cried until his sobs turned to soft snores and the wizard smiled softly as he shook his head. "You must have worn yourself out with all your fretting and all this excitement I suppose I should put you to bed now."

Gandalf turned to Bofur. "Don't think I didn't see you there Bofur, you mention a word of what you heard in here just now and I'll turn you into a toad." Bofur didn't doubt him for a second.

_Okay I've decided to give you guys a listing of dwarf ages for this story, I couldn't find all the dwarf ages in cannon so I went with a combination of how old I thought they looked and the ages of the actors that played them. I know that this is not wholly accurate but I did the best that I could with the resources I had. I did some math according to the dwarf age of 72 being equivalent to the human age of 19. Now in alphabetical order Balin 219, Bifur 136, Bofur 177, Bombur 166, Dori 207, Dwalin 192, Fili 79, Gloin 196, Kili 73, Nori 185, Oin 249, Ori 120, Thorin 154. For this story I changed the dates of some important events such as when The Battle of Azanulbizar took place in the story it occurred about thirty years before Bilbo was born. These are done for the sake of the plot as is Thorin being even later than he was in the movie. Thank yous to everyone, who read, reviewed, followed, and/or favorited._


	5. Chapter 5

_I do not own this book/movie at all. Now that that is out of the way please enjoy the story._

Once Bilbo was put to bed Gandalf sought out Bofur, though he didn't have to look far to find him. The dwarf was sitting in the study where Gandalf had left him, with a frown that didn't look natural on his face. His eyes narrowed when he saw the wizard but he didn't say or do anything else. Gandalf sat across from him and brought out his pipe. He smoked and watched the dwarf deciding where to begin with caution. He would need another set of eyes to keep watch over Bilbo when he couldn't and Bofur seemed a good choice.

"I suppose you'd like to know what exactly it is you've overheard." The wizard said without a trace of trepidation in his voice as he took another puff from his pipe.

"I wouldn't mind hearing it." Bofur said with a glare that was anything but halfhearted.

Gandalf sighed and took a seat. "Then perhaps I should start at the beginning Bilbo's father was a dwarf and his mother was a hobbit. They had a brief marriage and due to a mutual agreement between them his mother and his father parted ways. His mother did not know that she was pregnant when she left Bilbo's father and by the time she learned she was it was too late for her to turn back. She remarried shortly after she returned to the Shire so that she could keep her child. Unfortunately in the Shire she would have been marked an unwed woman and thus unfit to raise him."

Bofur nodded. "So that would explain his name, he take more after his mother?"

"Yes he took after his mother. He has some dwarven features though you would need to know hobbits well to begin to see where he differs from the average hobbit." Gandalf said this exchange of information providing a way to ease out of the tension.

"You told us he was of age and you said he was fit to be our burglar." Bofur's hands tightened into fists even as his voice remained calm. "Why do you even want him to come with us? This is no pleasure trip he will be in danger he could die."

"I have my reasons." Gandalf said sadly. "If I had the choice I would not be doing this but my hand has been forced. We have little time, Bilbo is an outcast in the Shire and his home will not remain his for much longer. Sadly his heritage from both sides of his family, his admittedly unusual behavior for a hobbit, and his wanderlust never made him popular with the rest of the Shire. He has been through harsh times having recently lost both of his parents and his grandfather to the Fell Winter. Anyone else who could look out for him has not lifted a finger to comfort him or provide for him. In the meantime Bilbo has had to live alone for the first time in his life and he lacks the support most hobbits have as a result of their large families."

Gandalf looked at Bofur and watched how he reacted to what he had said. The dwarf looked uncomfortable with how he heard Bilbo was treated so Gandalf continued. "Even so I thought of taking him to the Blue Mountains to find his father. Before I could however I ran into a small band of dwarves and I overheard mutterings of a quest to take back the Lonely Mountain. It was then that I remembered an encounter I'd had with another dwarf and I realized that I could take care of two problems with one stone. If Bilbo were to simply show up one day with no proof to his heritage but his mother's courtship and marriage beads and the word of a wizard he would be outcast again if not cast out. But if he were to join the quest to retake Erebor he would have earned if not the right to live there then at least enough treasure that he could seek a comfortable life elsewhere, though it is my hope that you would not leave one of your heroes without a home."

Bofur gritted his teeth not sure why he was even considering the wizards words. "It would be an affront to our honor to turn him away either way, but there would be fewer detractors if he helped us to regain our home, especially considering he don't look much like a dwarf." Bofur sighed feeling closer to Oins age than his own. He looked up at the wizard his kind eyes unnaturally cold. The dwarf crossed his arms the lightheartedness he carried earlier put aside for the time being. "So what would you say how old he is? What race does he take after more in that matter?"

Gandalf paused for a moment thinking over what he said next carefully. "To a Hobbit Bilbo would be nearly fully grown but it is hard to tell for sure one way or the other given that dwarves grow quickly in their early years but are not considered adults until seventy two years of age. Bilbo has recently turned twenty nine years old and he's still in what the hobbits call the tweens. A hobbit comes of age at the time of their thirty third birthday, that is one of the reasons he's having so much trouble. I think that in the end it will be a matter of time to see if he truly ages at the rate of a hobbit or a dwarf. In the mind it is also hard to tell what side he favors. Mentally he can be very mature and in some ways he has the mind of a hobbit twice his age, in other ways he can act the child that he would be as a full blooded dwarf. He is responsible enough to take care of himself but he is given to childish actions and he is easily goaded into doing dangerous things that grown hobbits and dwarves would not approve of."

"So he should be watched carefully?" Bofur asked sounding like he was fishing for information.

Gandalf laughed. "No for the most part he is reasonable."

Bofur gave a curt nod. "If he does decide to come on this journey, I'll be watching over him and if he comes to any harm then the blame for it will be on your head. But only if he chooses to come and I will be keeping an eye on him." He stood to join his kin where they were undoubtedly making a mess of Bilbo's home.

* * *

><p>Bilbo awoke to the smell of food cooking and loud voices chatting in his kitchen. He groaned the events from last night coming back to him in a blur. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes noting the slight headache from too little food and crying himself to sleep like a fauntling. He was even wearing the clothes he had on yesterday. He groaned again at the thought of more dwarven chaos taking place in his home but got out of the warmth of his bed to act the decent host, even though his guests were far from decent. He washed his face in the basin and got changed into clothing that was more befitting of a host. He left his room feeling more hospitable than yesterday and he let the delicious smells lead him toward his kitchen. He was halfway there when he was stopped by a wizard.<p>

"Good afternoon Bilbo. Did you sleep well?" Gandalf asked cheerily as he saw the hobbit.

"Afternoon!" Bilbo squeaked startled his eyes nearly popping out of his skull.

Gandalf smirked and handed him a cuppa tea prepared just the way he liked it. "Yes it seems you slept in quite late today, but do not worry or fret about the cooking or seeing to the others Bomber has things well in hand. Besides you know what will happen if you neglect to take care of yourself. It would be disastrous for you if you were to become ill now."

Bilbo took the cup with shaking hands and inhaled the steam. "Yes I know, but I can't be a rude host. You can blame yourself for putting me into this situation. I would have prepared to feed an army and had my supper early if I knew you were bringing one to my door."

The wizard chuckled as the hobbit sent him a glance that while no longer angry was still accusing. "Yes the guilt in this matter does fall on me but as far as I can tell the dwarves think you are an excellent host if a bit too stuffy for their tastes, and Bilbo might I remind you that is no way to talk to a guest." Gandalf laughed shaking a finger at the young hobbit.

"Be that as it may, you are no guest Gandalf. You are family and family has a completely different set of rules." Bilbo said with a tired smile.

"Then as a member of your family I insist you let me take over the duties of host so you can go and eat your lunch before there is nothing left in your larders at all." Gandalf said with a smile that for once was devoid of its usual mischief.

"No I can't let you." Bilbo said shaking his head even as he gazed longingly at the kitchen. "This is my home and I must be the proper host."

"Bilbo there is a time for propriety and a time to use common sense. This is no time to behave like a child." Gandalf said wagging hiss finger at Bilbo like he would with a young child.

Bilbo gaped at him for a second before he puffed up angrily. "I'm the one behaving like a child! You accuse me of behaving like a child! You bring these dwarves into my house without even telling me about them! You show up late to supper! You did nothing and let them run through my house like it was their own and you call me a child! That is childish behavior Gandalf!" The hobbit shouted barely preventing himself from stomping his foot in anger.

"You are a child Bilbo no matter how old you may act. Now go and let me take care of things for now. No one will think less of you for using your brain and taking care of yourself." Gandalf said with force enough that Bilbo knew he was serious.

"Fine but I will not be saving anything for you." Bilbo said huffily before storming into his kitchen muttering complaints about interfering meddlesome wizards and loud uninvited guests between sips of his tea.

Arriving in his kitchen he just about cringed as he placed his empty cup in the sink. Last night seemed to be the ordinary way of dwarven guests if the state of his kitchen had anything to say about it. He dodged between the dwarves that were making his kitchen into the dining equivalent of a circus with ease and gathered enough food to make up for the meals he had skipped while the dwarves made themselves at home. He danced, for that was the only way to describe how he managed to avoid getting elbowed in the face or sent sprawling to the floor in such close quarters, to where they had moved his table. He found a seat no one was sitting in and gave a glare to everyone at the table before he sat down and tucked into his meal with less much grace than he would have if he was not afraid his food would suddenly become a projectile.

Bilbo had just barely finished his first serving, which was a fair amount by dwarven standards and earned him more than a few horrified glances from the dwarves at the table, when there was a loud set of three knocks on the door. Bilbo nearly groaned in irritation as he remembered that another dwarf would be invading his home as all the dwarves went unnaturally quiet.

"He's here." Gandalf said with a gravity Bilbo knew he was capable of but was unused to hearing from the wizard.

Gandalf having taken over the hosting duties entirely open the door and looked at the dwarf on the other side. This must be the dwarf that wasn't able to make it last night. He certainly resembled the two brothers Fili and Kili enough to be their uncle but he was certainly older than they were. Their faces overflowed with their youth but his was the face of a man that had seen and experienced more than his fair share of hardship. His hair was a dark black turning grey at the temples interspersed with braids that were held together by metal beads that made Bilbo's head ache just looking at them, the two most obvious hanging from his temples to rest against his chest. He held himself with authority even as he stood at Bilbo's front door.

"Gandalf I thought you said this place would be easy to find." He said with a deep voice that had a warm tone to it. He entered the house uninvited and handed his cloak to Gandalf revealing the chain mail and fur coat he wore with a tunic that was a royal blue and the bracers on his forearms. "I lost my way twice. I wouldn't have found it at all if it hadn't been for that mark on the door."

"What mark there is no mark on this door? I just had it painted it this week." Bilbo sputtered hardly able to believe that the chaos that had invaded his home along with twelve dwarves had spilled onto the outside of his home.

"There is a mark I put it there myself." Gandalf said sounding guilty as he ignored Bilbo's latest accusing glare and gestured toward the hobbit. "Bilbo Baggins allow me to introduce the leader of our company Thorin Oakenshield."

"So this is the hobbit?" Thorin said as he looked Bilbo over with an appraising eye that left a frown on the hobbit's face. "Tell me Mr. Baggins have you done much fighting?"

"Pardon me?" Bilbo said softly as he watched the dwarf warily.

"Axe or sword what is your weapon of choice?" Thorin asked as he began circling the hobbit like a hawk circling a kill, his nose certainly didn't help Bilbo to get over that mental image.

"Well I do have some skill at conkers if you must know but I fail to see why that's relevant." Bilbo said with sarcasm and nervousness painting every hesitating word and gesture.

Thorin smirked and Bilbo recognized the gesture even before the dwarf began to speak having been on the receiving side of such looks many times before. "I thought as much, he looks more like a grocer than a burglar."

The rest of the dwarves burst out into amused laughter obviously having thought along the same line their King had. Bilbo hid the sting and hurt behind a mask of propriety he'd long since perfected. He'd been on the receiving end of unkind words before and e wasn't about to let them know that he was hurt. Trusting his manners to get him through this situation he looked at Gandalf hoping that it would convey that he would be taking the hosting duties back from the wizard. He put on his most genteel smile and ignored the concerned look Gandalf sent him with practiced ease.

"After such a long journey I am sure you're hungry, if you would please follow me I'll get you something to eat. Please excuse the mess I was not expecting so many guests." Bilbo said his voice lacking much emotion as he gestured toward the table's new resting place.

He led the King and the rest of the company there and was surprised that it no longer looked like a battle had been fought over it any longer. The dwarves it seemed in spite of what prior actions suggested did have some inclination as to what cleanliness was. Bilbo led Thorin to his seat at the head of the table and Thorin took it with regal bearing. Sitting in it like one would a throne instead of collapsing into it like other weary travelers might be inclined to do. Seeing that his newest guest was seated Bilbo headed toward the kitchen ignoring the silence that was interspersed with brief bouts of laughter.

He gathered the ingredients for a quick stew he could make easily and cursed rudeness and dwarves under his breath as he worked his pride being the only thing that prevented him from throwing a fit like he really wanted to do. He finished the stew and set it in front of the dwarf pretending he was serving Lobelia instead as he knew how to deal with her. Thorin began eating though he was much more reserved than his brethren as he didn't make a mess and ate at a reasonable pace.

"What news from the meeting in Ered Luin? Did they all come?" Balin implored as Thorin ate his stew, all of the company waiting with baited breath to hear Thorin's answer.

"Aye envoys from all seven kingdoms came to the meeting." Thorin answered with a nod as he continued to eat the stew.

"All of them." Balin exclaimed happily as joyful cheers went up across the table and Bilbo feared a riot might break out as he watched them.

"And what did the dwarves of the Iron Hills say?" Dwalin asked with a confident smile. "Is Dain with us?"

Thorin drew in a deep breath looking down at the table but his upbringing did not allow for him to hang his head for long. He looked up at the rest of the company with hardened eyes. "They will not come."

There were disappointed murmurings and mutters from every seat of the table but Thorin continued speaking as though he had complete silence. "They say this quest is ours and ours alone."

"Bilbo, my dear fellow, let us have a little more light." Gandalf said as he pulled something out of the sleeve of his robe. He unfolded it talking as he did so. "Far to the east over ranges and rivers beyond woodlands and wastelands lies a single solitary peak. This mountain has housed the house of Dain for generations and I believe it is time to take back the mountain for its people and it's King."

"The Lonely Mountain." Bilbo read over Gandalf's shoulder.

"Aye Oin has read the portents and the portents say it is time." Gloin said with passionate emphasis on everything he said.

"Ravens have been seen flying back to the mountain as it was foretold. 'When the birds of yore return to Erebor the reign of the beast will end'." Oin continued after his brother stopped speaking.

"The beast? The dragon you were all talking about last night." Bilbo said fear appearing on his face at the thought of it.

Bofur nodded and continued in hope to scare the halfling out of agreeing to accompany them on the quest. "Yes that would be a reference to Smaug the Terrible Chiefest and Greatest Calamity of Our Age. Airborne fire-breather with teeth like razors, claws like meat hooks, and extremely fond of precious metals."

"Yes I know what a dragon is." Bilbo said nodding calmly even as he worried his hands together.

Ori stood up seeming to shove himself up from his chair with his hands. "I'm not afraid. I'm up for it. I'll give him a taste of dwarfish iron right up his jacksie."

Even as Nori chimed, "Good one Ori." Dori pulled him back down into his seat with a stern, "Sit down."

"This task would be difficult enough with an army behind us." Balin said solemnly. "But we number just thirteen and not thirteen of the best nor brightest."

His statement sent angered mutterings up and down the table. Until Fili's voice broke through. "We may be few in numbers, but we're fighters all of us to the last dwarf."

"And you forget we have a wizard in our company Gandalf will have killed hundereds of dragons in his time." Kili continued with just as much fire.

"Oh no I, I wouldn't say that." Gandalf said from here he was standing with his head bowed to prevent hitting the ceiling.

"How many then?" Dori asked.

"How many what?" Gandalf replied.

"How many dragons have you killed?"Dori asked again his voice turning sterner with having to repeat himself.

When Gandalf took a nervous drag from his pipe and refused to answer a riot really did break out amongst the Dwarves. Bilbo tried to stop the screaming and the fighting but he went unheard in the cacophony.

Thorin stood and shouted drawing the others out of their rage. When he spoke it was firm and strong but filled with the righteous anger of a man forced to flee his home. "If we have read these signs do you not think that others will have read them too? Rumors have begun to spread. The fire drake Smaug has not been seen outside of the mountain for over sixty years. Eyes have been turning east to the mountain assessing, wondering, weighing the risk. Perhaps the vast wealth of our people lies unprotected? What then do we sit back and let others take what is rightfully ours or do we seize this chance and take back our mountain! Take back Erebor!" Thorin shouted.

Balin shook his head sadly. "You forget the front gate has been sealed. There is no way into the mountain."

"That my dear Balin is not entirely true." Gandalf said as he waved his fingers twirling a key of dwarven make from his sleeve. It was dark grey and heavy engraved with runes, it had only one tooth and it was cut with holes that resembled an hourglass.

Thorin watched the key awed and that awe was reflected in his voice when he spoke. "How did you come by this?"

Gandalf looked to Thorin holding the key out to him and placing it in his hand. "It was given to me by your father by Thrain for safekeeping. It is yours now if you want it."

"If there is a key then there must be a door." Fili said

"Fili is correct. These runes speak of another passage to the lower halls. With this key we have another way in but only if we can find it. Dwarven doors are invisible when closed and that makes things difficult." Gandalf sighed. "This map provides the answer to the location of the door hidden somewhere in it but I do not have the skills to find it. There are however others in Middle-earth who can and they may be sympathetic to your cause. This task will not be easy it will require a great deal of stealth and no small amount of courage. But if we are careful and clever I believe it can be done."

"That's why we need a burglar." Ori said his voice the same soft mournful tone it usually was now that it was no longer filled with youthful bravado.

"I'll say and a good one too. An expert I'd imagine?" Bilbo said his hands pulling on his suspenders as he bounced on his feet.

"And are you?" Gloin asked.

"Am I what?" Bilbo returned confused.

"He said he's an expert. Hey! Hey!" Oin said happily holding his ear trumpet against his ear as he was an old dwarf and his hearing was not what it had been.

"I." Bilbo couldn't even form the words he felt so insulted, but he somehow managed to force them out. "I am not, I'm not a burglar, no. I've never stolen anything in my life."

"I'm afraid I have to agree with Mr. Baggins he's hardly burglar material." Balin intoned sadly.

"Aye the wild is no place for gentlefolk who can neither fight nor fend for themselves." Dwalin said and Bilbo pointed at him with raised eyebrows in perfect agreement.

The dwarves all began to talk amongst themselves though it was nowhere near the riotous explosion of earlier. Gandalf however had had enough and his shadow grew and his voice deepened so that all in the room looked at him in fear and awe. "Enough if I say that Bilbo Baggins is a burglar then a burglar he is."

He calmed the shadows retreating as he spoke in a normal pitch. "Hobbits are remarkably light on their feet. In fact that can pass unseen by most if they choose and while Smaug has become accustomed to the smell of dwarf the scent of a hobbit would be all but unknown to him. It would be a distinct advantage, it may be the only one we have and only a fool would be so quick to pass up what may be our only hope of outwitting the beast." He sat down at the table to talk on level with Thorin. "You asked me to pick out the fourteenth member of this company and I have chosen Mr. Baggins. There is a lot more to him than appearances would suggest and he's got a great deal more to offer than any of you know including himself. If you wish for this quest to succeed you must trust me on this."

"Very well, we'll do it your way." Thorin said even as Bilbo began to protest. "Give him a contract."

"It's just the usual, a summary of out of pocket expenses, remuneration, funeral arrangements and so forth. " Balin said as he passed the contact to Thorin who shoved it against the halfling's chest without even bothering to look in his direction.

"Funeral arrangements?" Bilbo asked his voice now shaking like a scared fauntlings. He walked out into the hall to read the contract in the light muttering the terms and conditions under his breath.

Thorin grabbed Gandalf by his arm whispering in the wizard's ear so as not to be overheard. "I cannot guarantee his safety, nor will I be responsible for his fate."

"I understand." Gandalf said solemnly.

"Terms cash on delivery up to but not exceeding on fourteenth of total profit if any. Seems fairly reasonable. Present company will not be held liable for any injuries acquired on the undertaking of this quest including but not limited to, lacerations." Bilbo sounded out slowly and Gandalf turned to see the hobbit in the beginnings of a panic.

"Evisceration." The hobbit's face scrunched up in fearful confusion as he looked closer at the word. He unfolded the next part of the contract noticing that it folded across and there was more contract that went down.

"Incineration." He said as he turned to look at the dwarves sounding out the last word like they were all insane.

"Oh aye he'll melt the flesh off your bones in the blink of an eye." Bofur sounded out happily secretly trying to get the child to stay here where it was safe.

The hobbit closed the contract his face turning pale as he gave a humorless laugh.

"You alright laddie?" Balin asked as Bilbo leaned over his hands on his knees breathing heavy.

"Yeah." He let out a stuttering breath through pursed lips. "Yeah I think I might be a bit faint."

"Think furnace with wings." Bofur said leaning out into the hallway when he saw that his plan was working.

"Ai… Air I, I need air." Bilbo stuttered his breath growing short he rubbed at his nose with his hand but it didn't help any.

"Flash of light searing pain, then poof you're nothing more than a pile of ash." Bofur continued with his cheery description of Bilbo's possible death.

The hobbit took two deep breaths to steady himself his chest swelling but his efforts were for naught. "Nope." Bilbo finally said before his eyes rolled back into his head and he hit the floor.

"Oh very helpful Bofur, I think there will be a toad joining us on our journey after all." Gandalf said angrily as he looked at the Halfling lying passed out on the floor.

_No long authors notes this time just a big thank you to everyone, who read, reviewed, followed, and/or favorited. _


	6. Chapter 6

_I do not own this book/movie at all. Now that that is out of the way please enjoy the story_

Oin inspected the unconscious halfling's head and pried open both of his eyelids to inspect them taking note of how they responded to the light and the motion of his fingers in front of them, when he didn't feel any bruising or see any problems with his eyes he stood. He took out a vial from his pack and waved it under the halfling's nose. Bilbo jerked his eyes shooting open and he groaned in protest of the unpleasant sharp smell and the dizziness that whirled in his head and made his stomach churn.

"He'll be fine." The gruff dwarf said a touch too loudly. "But Dori if you would prepare some of the tea in the blue pouch in my bag for him it would be appreciated."

Dori nodded and hurried to make the tea as Bilbo blushed under the intense scrutinizing eyes of the rest of the dwarves that crowded around him. He looked down in embarrassment and pushed himself onto his knees. He carefully stood to his feet and almost instantly lost his balance only stopped by a hand wrapping around his shoulder holding him up. Once he regained his balance the hand was removed and Bilbo turned to look at the dwarf that had helped him a bit irritated to see that it was Bofur whose attempts to scare him ad worked a bit too well.

"Thank you." Bilbo said rigidly as he looked down at his furry feet.

"It's the least I could do seeing as I made you faint in the first place." Bofur said with a friendly smile and Bilbo tried to smile back but it was more of a grimace than anything.

"You should sit down before you pass out again." Oin snapped as Bilbo's face paled and he swayed on his feet looking like he was about to greet the floor again at any moment.

Bilbo nodded unwilling and unable to put up more of a fight as his head was spinning and the idea of sitting down settled in his head favorably. He made his way to his sitting room where his favorite chair still sat with a small group of dwarves walking two steps behind him making sure he didn't fall. He lowered himself into his chair feeling crowded by all the attention unused to it as he was. He glowered at Gandalf as the wizard laughed silently at the hobbit's misfortune and obvious discomfort with the situation. Dori brought him a mug filled with a spicy smelling tea that he sipped at with trepidation as he knew from his youth how unpalatable it could be. He was pleasantly surprised that it was mild and didn't make him gag at the first sip.

"I'll be fine now." He said ignoring the skeptical looks from dwarves who were obviously unused to the idea of someone fainting given the way they crowded around him like he might die if they so much as took a step away.

"He'll be quite fine in a moment but he does need room to breathe." Gandalf said and the dwarves assured that he wasn't about to die on them drifted back into his living room and kitchens to raid them again.

Gandalf however stayed where he was looking over the halfling with concern that was beginning to grate on Bilbo's nerves. He'd only fainted after all and it wasn't an uncommon occurrence among hobbits. He might have issues with his health but that did not mean that he was going to drop dead at any second. He did get sick often but that didn't mean he was fragile. He always pulled through and he was tired of being treated like his mother's prized dishes around those who knew about his weak constitution.

"I'll be alright just let me sit quietly for a moment." Bilbo sat fingers curled around his tea as he took a sip to calm himself trying to ignore the wizard.

The wizard huffed looking down at the young hobbit with disappointment. "You've been sitting quietly for far too long."

"And far less than most hobbit's I assure you." Bilbo said with an almost bitter note in his voice as he frowned into his mug.

Gandalf shook his head. "And still far less than what is good for you. I remember a young hobbit who was always running off in search of holes in the woods, who would have liked nothing more than to see what is beyond the Shire borders. One who would stay out late and come back trailing mud, and twigs, and fireflies."

Bilbo snorted into his cup. "And I would get in trouble for bringing bugs and mud into the house and making my father worry."

Gandalf narrowed his eyes at the hobbit shaking his finger at him like he was a fauntling who had just fallen out of a tree after being told not to climb it. "Now is not the time for back sass Bilbo."

"No." The hobbit said his voice taking on a somber tone. "It's not."

Gandalf seeing that Bilbo was growing despondent pointed at one of the family pictured that lined the walls. "Did you know that your great great great great uncle Bullroarer Took was so large that he could ride a real horse?"

Bilbo nodded but Gandalf gave him no opportunity to speak raising his voice fervently to say. "Well he could."

"In the Battle of Green Fields he charged the goblin ranks. He swung his club so hard it knocked the goblin kings head clean off and it sailed a hundred yards through the air and went down a rabbit hole. And thus the battle was won and the game of golf invented at the same time." Gandalf said with a friendly smile.

Bilbo smiled and in a slightly amused but weak tone. "I do believe you just made that up."

"Well." The wizard started. "All good stories deserve embellishment and you'll have a tale or two to tell of your own at the end of this journey." He said ended things on a much more somber note and he let it trail off into silence.

Bilbo hesitated before he spoke asking the one question that would not stop nagging at him begging to be asked. "Why is it that you are so convinced that this is something I have to do?"

Gandalf sighed but took a seat across from Bilbo as he knew how intimidating he was at his full height. "There are many reasons but the main reason I find it prudent to bring you along on this journey is that it is what might be the only practical solution to your problem. You cannot stay here, without support or any means of caring for yourself you will not last long. You need a place where you are welcome more so than here and the most likely place would be with your birth fathers family."

He frowned. "I also believe that no matter what may happen for good or ill it is well past time that you learned about your dwarven roots and made allies among your birth father's people. You are half dwarf and that is your birthright, no one can take that from you not even yourself. It is true that there are those that would stand opposed to helping you as you are not a full dwarf just as there are those that do not like you because you are not fully hobbit. Dwarves like Hobbits are a suspicious people and thy do not trust outsiders easily, but they honor their heroes and even if you do not find favor in your birth father's house it would be dishonor of the highest degree to the point of anathema for them to cast out one who has done and sacrificed much to help them."

"And what then can you guarantee that my family will want me?" Bilbo said there was some anger in his voice but he mostly sounded afraid. "Can you promise that I'll make it to Erebor?"

"No I cannot make them want you Bilbo." Gandalf said his voice heavy with the gravity of his words. "That is a choice that I cannot make for them though I can say they would be fools for turning you away. I cannot guarantee your safety on this journey nor can I guarantee that you will reach the end of the journey and if you do you will not be the same."

"That's what I thought. I'm sorry Gandalf but I can't sign this." Bilbo said with a gesture to the contract sitting on the ottoman. He picked it up worrying it between his hands before he stood looking at Gandalf with an almost hopeless plea. "You've got the wrong hobbit."

He turned and walked out of the room. He saw Thorin and Balin standing nearby and handed them the contract back thrusting it into Balin's arms. "I'm sorry but I won't be your burglar. I wish you all the best on your travels."

"It appears we have lost our burglar." Balin said with a sigh. "Probably for the best in the end. The odds were against us and always have been. After all, what are we? Merchants, miners, tinkers, toymakers, scholars." He laughed with amused bitterness. "Our company is hardly the stuff of legend."

"There are a few warriors amongst us." Thorin said softly but with pride.

"Old warriors." Balin said with a sad shake of his head. "And not enough to be of much use in taking back the mountain."

"I would take each and every one of these dwarves over an army from the Iron Hills." Thorin said fiercely. "For when I called upon them they answered. Loyalty, honor, a willing heart, I can ask no more than that."

"You don't have to do this Thorin you have a choice. You have done honorably by our people more than we had ever dreamed was possible. You have built a new life for us in the Blue Mountains, a life of peace and plenty and that is worth more than all the gold that is in Erebor. We need not forsake our new lives to go back to a ruined mountain." Balin pleaded hoping that his words could sway the stubborn king despite knowing Thorin well enough to know that he would not yield.

"From my father to my grandfather, this has come to me." Thorin said fervently as he held up the key. "They dreamed of the day when the dwarves of Erebor would reclaim their homeland, when we would stand strong without fear in our mountain. There is no choice Balin. Not in this, not for me."

The older dwarf nodded in spite of the hopelessness of the journey to come. "Then we are with you Laddie." He patted Thorin on the shoulder. "We will see this done."

* * *

><p>Bilbo escaped to his room feeling less and less like Bilbo Baggins of Bag End with every moment. His head was swirling with Tookish thoughts and dreams of adventure and danger that would make most hobbits cower in fear. He wanted to help them and wasn't that a strange thing to want to ride off into danger with the knowledge that he would most likely die weighing down on him but doing nothing to stop his desire to go. He wanted to go but he hid himself as he often did under the banner of Bilbo Baggins. He made himself proper and acceptable and he was treated as such by most if not all if the Shire. But no matter how he tried he could never burry that foolhardy urge to see, and explore, and discover.<p>

He wanted to go, but he shouldn't. He shouldn't want to see the lonely mountain and it's spoils. He shouldn't desire to face down dragons and dangers like the heroes in stories who were never hobbits because hobbits were peaceful and not meant for such things. Hobbit's were suited to a peaceful life one day exactly like the next save for the gossip passed around by the neighbors. This was the kind of life a hobbit was meant to leave, at home in safety, but he wasn't just a hobbit. Dwarves were made for battle and danger, perhaps he was too or perhaps he was just making a fool of himself.

He sat down on his bed trying to bring some order back into his chaotic thoughts. They were I the same situation as him, the only difference was that their home was stolen by the dragon Smaug instead of Otho and Lobelia. He was no burglar, no dragon slayer, no hero, he was Bilbo Baggins of Bag End. He was meant for calm days and peaceful times, not long journeys or the scourge of battle. He was a hobbit born and raised and no dwarf blood could change that. He did not doubt that this journey would cost him his life if he took it. Compared to the dwarves he was frail and weak, prone to taking ill. He'd be a hindrance and they would do much better without him. They would just have to find someone else someone stronger and braver, better suited to this quest than he was.

He was almost asleep when he heard the dwarves in the living room their hums and murmurings forming a tune that was mournful and slow and deep. It settled into his bones and rang in his heart until it flowed through his veins and crawled over his skin. It almost made his heart stop beating when he recognized the song as one his mother would sing to him on nights when he was dizzy with fever and unable to rest. It was always mournfully sweet when she sang it but hearing it like this was altogether a different experience. Listening to how the other dwarves combined their voices some with words others with their voices like instruments being played was hauntingly beautiful as Thorin sang the main verse.

The other dwarves joined in with their voices until it rang though the smial. "Far over the misty mountains cold. To dungeons deep and caverns old. We must away 'ere break of day. To find our long forgotten gold. The pines were roaring on the height. The winds were moaning in the night. The fire was red it flaming spread. The trees like torches blazed with light."

They finished their song and restarted it at the beginning and the familiarity of it pricked at his heart. He'd known that the lullaby his mother sang for him sometimes was dwarven in origin but for the first time it truly dawned on him that these were not just uninvited guests these were his people, maybe even his family, and he was behaving no better toward them than Lobelia had toward him. He rolled his mother's beads between his fingers feeling the runes carved into them and wondering if his father was there when the mountain fell. He wondered if he'd been burned in dragon fire, whether he stood tall and faced the beast or if he ran fleeing for his life. Would he approve of him doing nothing or would he want him to stay in the Shire where he would be safe? He didn't know and with those unanswered questions he curled up on himself. Exhausted he listened as the song continued and as it always did when he was younger it lulled him to sleep filling his dreams with imaginings of a dragon guarded mountain, howling winds like screams, fire, and smoke.

* * *

><p>Bilbo awoke slowly to birdsong and a gentle morning light. He moaned and groaned as one typically did when rising from slumber unwilling to truly wake. He blinked blearily when he noticed that the birdsong was all that he could hear. He stood from bed creeping through the smial. He poked his head into the rooms he passed, but there was not a dwarf to be seen. He called out a hello as he crept around a corner. He looked through the kitchen he even looked up the fireplace on a whim. But no one answered back and as he continued his cautious creeping examination of Bag End.<p>

With not a dwarf or wizard in sight he soon came to the conclusion that there were no more dwarves in his house and Gandalf had vanished as well. In fact everything was where it was supposed to be and it was clean, remarkably clean. It had transformed overnight from a mess that would have made weaker hobbits faint (he doesn't count he fainted from the lovely description of death from dragon fire and not a messy house) into the spotless beauty it usually was. It was enough to make him believe that he was either dreaming now and the dwarves were making a mess of the kitchen he was creeping trough or that the last two days had been a dream and nothing more but he was going to enjoy it either way.

He bounced on his feet and generally just enjoyed the feeling of having a clean and uncrowded home. It wasn't until he saw the contract sitting on the table that he realized that he was not in a pleasant dream but reality. He picked up the contract avoiding looking at anything covering probable deaths instead focusing on the line that said burglar and the blank space beside it that was left for him to sign. He bit his lip all the reasons he shouldn't dancing through his head doing battle with the Tookish fool in him that was determined to take off into the wild blue yonder.

"It's foolish." He said out loud in vain hope of banishing the silence that seemed alien to him after only two days of constant noise. "They're all going to get themselves killed and I, well I would be mad for even considering it. I am a Baggins of Bag End and I belong here I don't belong out there gallivanting off into the blue. I don't even know how to burgle anything. They'll find another burglar one more qualified than me."

He looked down at the contract again the blank space beside burglar making his fingers itch. He bit his lip lost in an inner debate with himself that the sensible side was quickly loosing. If they didn't want him to come after his refusal they wouldn't have left the contract. They must want him there if they left it behind they were probably waiting for him delaying their trip just to give him time to catch up. He looked at the contract there was still time, but he'd have to be quick about it if he didn't want to get out there and find he'd been left behind.

He scrambled though his house throwing anything he might need into his travel pack, a bed roll, a change of clothes, his emergency fund, some food that would survive the journey, a kit to mend his clothing, and anything he passed that he thought might be of use. He grabbed a sheet of parchment and a quill leaving a quick note for the Gamgee's to move his things into storage and he signed filling the blank space by burglar. He threw on his sturdiest set of clothes and grabbed the contract running out the door.

The contract trailed behind him like a flag as he sprinted through the Shire. He ran past hobbits who shook their heads at his antics and jumped over produce. He completely forgot his manners as he ran like a madman, he even pushed someone out of the way but he was too intent on his destination to recognize or care who he just bumped into. He simply shouted back a sorry and kept running.

Master Worrywort an older hobbit he knew called to him from over his fence. "Here, Mr. Bilbo where are you off too?"

"Can't stop I'm already late." Bilbo said as he ran past him.

"Late for what?" The old hobbit shouted after him.

Bilbo continued running not stopping or slowing down but he still shouted out his answer. "I'm going on an adventure!"

_We have finally left Bag End and the first leg of the journey has officially started. All the dwarves could hear Bilbo and Gandalf speaking about was muffled by magic, so they know that they were talking but they couldn't understand it. So no one but Bofur has overheard and no one save Bofur knows that Bilbo is half dwarf. Thank yous to everyone, who read, reviewed, followed, and/or favorited._


	7. Chapter 7

_I do not own this show at all. Now that that is out of the way please enjoy the story._

Bilbo ran through the woods hoping that he was not too late. He vaulted through the underbrush chasing the dwarves who he was beginning to think had left him behind in their haste to reclaim their home. Afraid that if he slowed down he would never catch them he sprinted through the trees his feet barely touching the ground. He was beginning to think that his fears had been realized and he'd lost them when he spotted something moving in the distance. He ran toward the blurs of brown and white that did not blend into the woods and smiled when he saw that it was the dwarves and Gandalf riding ponies. Though Gandalf being too tall for a pony rode a horse.

"Wait! Wait!" He yelled as he ran toward the company nearly crying for joy when they stopped and turned to watch him run toward them.

"I signed it." Bilbo said with a wide grin as he ran up to Balin remembering that he was the one who'd given the contract to Thorin to give to him and handed him the contract.

The dwarf held up the contract and tipped his jewelers eye with a smile. He looked over Bilbo's signature with a critical eye. "Everything appears to be in order. Welcome Master Baggins to the company of Thorin Oakenshield."

There were a few encouraging cheers from the company and Bilbo smiled slightly until the pony's head got a little too close to him for comfort and he took a step back uncomfortable with the closeness of what to him was a very big animal.

"Give him a pony." Thorin said gruffly as he pulled on the reigns urging his pony to turn in the direction they needed to go.

"Oh no, no. That won't be necessary." Bilbo said quickly gesturing with his hand as he looked at the ponies with suspicion. He had never done well around animals with fur and he backed up putting space between him and the dwarf. "I'm fine I've done my share of walking holidays. I even got as far as Frogmortan once." Bilbo was cut off as he found himself being suspended in the air between Fili and Kili.

The hobbit kicked his feet futilely the two dwarves snickering at his obvious panic before he was dropped like a sack of potatoes onto a saddle. He scrambled to grab the reigns because as much as he didn't want to ride the pony he wanted to fall off of it even less. The dwarf brothers laughed as his misery not even bothering to hide their amusement as he tried to settle himself on the saddle. He grabbed the reigns holding on with stiff arms and white knuckles his back straighter than he ever thought he could hold it. He shifted uncomfortably his hips being forced to move with the pony so he wouldn't fall as it walked. The pony neighed and he flinched as he nearly got a mouthful of its long tan mane, looking at it wondering how he'd even ended up on the creature.

They didn't get too far before he fell into a rhythm that didn't make him feel like he'd slip from the saddle at any second. It was then that behind him he heard Oin yell. "Come on Nori pay up."

The star haired dwarf tossed a small brown bag that jingled over his shoulder at the older dwarf who laughed as he caught it.

"One more!" Kili called with a wide grin.

Bilbo watched another bag fly past him watching the spectacle noting that the dwarves seemed to be as talented throwing coin purses as they were with his china. He looked to Gandalf who was riding beside him on a large, to Bilbo at least, chestnut horse his staff held in one hand the other hand on the reigns. "What's that about?"

Gandalf looked around at the dwarves before looking down at Bilbo. "Oh they took wagers on whether or not you'd turn up." He paused for a second before continuing. "Most of them bet that you wouldn't."  
>Bilbo looked at him for a moment rolling the question around in his head before he decided that he really did want to know. "And what did you think?"<p>

The wizard made a noise like a low groan before a coin purse was tossed into his hand. "My dear fellow I never doubted you for a second." He said laughing as he bounced the purse in his hand. He smiled as he brought up his messenger bag to put it away.

Bilbo sneezed his hand flying in front of his mouth. His eyes widened in panic for a moment but when nothing else happened he sighed sounding relieved. "It's just the horsehair. I'm having a reaction."

He dug through his pockets then finding nothing he began a frantic search of all his pockets. "No. Wait! Wait." He threw his hand up. "Stop. Stop we have to turn around."

The company slowed to a stop and all of the dwarves looked at Bilbo their faces each displaying a different look of annoyance.

"What on earth is the matter?" Gandalf exclaimed exasperated.

"I forgot my handkerchief." Bilbo said rechecking his pockets to make sure he hadn't misplaced it. He never went anywhere without a handkerchief and even the most Tookish of his family wouldn't dare to forget their handkerchiefs. It just wasn't done.

Bofur tore a patch from his shirt waving the brown scrap in the air for a moment. "Here use this."

He tossed the thick brown square of fabric at the hobbit who caught it with a disgusted look on his face. A small chorus of chuckles and a snort or two went up and Bilbo wasn't sure whether to flush in embarrassment or hold the rag as far away from his face as his arm could reach.

"Move on." Thorin said as he urged his pony to move again.

The company followed their leader and Bilbo moved with them after tucking the ugly brown rag into his saddle bags.

"You'll have to manage without pocket handkerchiefs and a good many other things Bilbo Baggins before you reach your journeys end. You were born to the rolling hills and little rivers of the Shire but that life, that home is behind you, the world is ahead. And you would do well to mind your surroundings. There are no luxuries to be had in the wilderness." Gandalf said as he rode beside Bilbo.

The hobbit nodded though he wasn't particularity happy about it he understood why they wouldn't be going back. A thought struck him and he looked at Gandalf. He opened his mouth but the things he was thinking wouldn't form into words. He shut his mouth and opened it again and shut it again when nothing came out of it looking more and more like a fish on dry land. He shook his head steeling himself. "Have you ever been there before?"

Gandalf looked down at the halfling one eyebrow raised. "Where?"

"Erebor." Bilbo said his face beginning to flush in embarrassment as he looked down at the saddle. He sat up quickly however as the thought of falling from the pony and being trampled under hoof went through his head.

"If you wish to know of your heritage there are much better people to ask than me my dear fellow." Gandalf said gesturing around him to indicate the other members of the company. "Some of the dwarves here have seen the splendor of Erebor, they lived there and if you were to ask them I'm sure that you will find a wealth of information."

Bilbo frowned and shook his head his grip around the reigns weakening. "I'm not sure if that would be the best idea Gandalf. I don't think any of them like me." He looked out ahead blankly.

Gandalf looked down at Bilbo. "Then you should make an effort to get to know them." The wizard said kindly.

Bilbo looked around at the dwarves and let out an amused chuckle as though he was laughing at his own private joke. "It would seem that I have no choice. It would be rude not to."

"And foolish at that. I cannot guarantee that everyone will like you Bilbo but I can say that you will have at least one friend here. I did promise your parents that I would take care of you and that reminds me." Gandalf reached into his bag rooting around for a bit before pulling out a small green bottle. He handed it to the hobbit who looked at it with more suspicion than he had for the pony.

"I'm sure you remember that well from my visits." He said as he watched the hobbit turn the bottle over in his hands.

"Yes." The hobbit said with no small amount of bitterness as his fingers curled around the bottle. "I remember this, I don't think I could ever forget it."

"You should drink it, the roads ahead will be rough. You'll need your full strength if you want to reach Erebor in one piece." The wizard said and again Bilbo had the feeling that he was smirking.

Bilbo winced as he uncorked the bottle the strong smell seemingly determined to singe off his every last nose hair as it wafted up into his face. He pulled it back his eyes beginning to water from the pungent scent. "You're a wizard Gandalf can't you make it smell less like death?"

Gandalf laughed. "There are some things my boy that magic cannot fix and this potion happens to be one of them besides you should be quite used to the taste and smell by now of it by now."

"No one could ever get used to such a taste or odor Gandalf." Bilbo said flatly. "I'll drink this when we stop to camp for the night."

"No you'll drink it now and give me back an empty bottle." Gandalf said firmly.

Bilbo winced as he put the bottle to his lips and tipped it back. The slime like liquid hit his tongue and he nearly flinched at the bitter sour taste. He drained the bottle quickly knowing from experience that it was easier to just get it over with. He nearly gagged but managed to keep from causing a scene. He handed the bottle back to Gandalf who placed the empty bottle back into his bag.

"That should help to keep you from getting sick." The wizard said. "And I brought along enough to last for the trip there."

"You shouldn't have." Bilbo said as he took a long drink from his water sack to wash away the taste.

"Nonsense my dear fellow." Gandalf said with a wry smirk. "If you were to fall ill during this journey and we were unable to find shelter in time I would have to find another burglar."

"You might have to anyway that tonic you gave me might do me in." Bilbo said with a weak smile.

Gandalf laughed. "If that were true my dear boy you would have been done in by it ages ago."

They both laughed though Bilbo's was much weaker than Gandalf's. After that the conversation trickled down into nothing and an easy silence fell over the two of them. Though it was by no means entirely silent there was the calling of birds and the brays and neighs of the ponies, the dwarves were surprisingly silent at times but for the most point proved to be just as loud and boisterous on the road as they were making a wreak of his house. They chatted amongst each other and jokes and laughed long and readily. It was quite different than anything he'd ever known. Not that hobbits were not a joyous people, but the underlying layer of manners that saturated every inch of a hobbits life and the background of gossip seemed virtually nonexistent among dwarves. Every story was shared and though the stories that made gossip, gossip still existed they were not whispered so as not to offend but told in the same animated manner as any good story to anyone who was near enough to hear.

Bilbo did not join in the conversations instead choosing to take in the world around him with wide eyes. they had left the road behind them some time ago and the path they were forging was not one that had been traveled recently. There were no roads and not a soul to be seen besides the company and there was a beauty in the solitude. Bilbo could almost forgot about the discomfort of trying to remain balanced on his pony as he surveyed the world around him. In less than a day's ride Bilbo saw a thick forest where the light could barely pass through the canopy, hills that looked more like mountains to the small hobbit, large grey boulders bigger than the entire company put together, and a horizon that looked endless. He could even see mountains in the distance.

Seeing the world was so much better than reading about it, Bilbo decided as the day wore on. The Shire held a piece of him, he knew it always would, but he knew that after this day riding through the wilds he would never be content to just stay in the Shire. He was quickly growing fond of the adventure, he was even growing fond of the pony he was riding now that he was no longer afraid to fall off of her. He'd even begun to call her Myrtle in his head as he swung his head this way and that to take in everything.

"Stop." Thorin's voice called out breaking through Bilbo's wonder at the world outside the Shire. "We'll stop here for the night." The dwarf said even as he scanned the area he'd chosen at the base of a cliff. Where the cliff could prevent any possible enemies from attacking from behind if they were beset by foes.

Almost in unison the dwarves hopped off of their ponies and Bilbo slid from the saddle and landed hard on his behind as his legs gave out on him. He stood trying to save face and nearly fell back down again when pain shot through his legs. Riding was harder on the body that it looked and his whole body was aching in ways he never knew that a body could ache. It was almost enough to make him forget that he was hungry. He hadn't eaten at all that day he was so eager to get out of the door and catch up that the thought of eating hadn't had time to form. It wasn't the first time he'd gotten himself lost in a task and forgotten his dinner. But those other times he'd gotten lost in literature and as he was beginning to learn it took a lot of energy trying not to fall off his pony.

"Fili Kili, go out and see if you can catch anything. Gloin start the fire. Bifur Bofur gather some wood for the fire. Dori Nori fetch us some water. Bombur begin cooking, Burglar help him. Everyone else clear the campgrounds." Thorin bellowed so that everyone could hear.

The dwarves and Bilbo groaned but none of them challenged the king. The dwarves went about their assigned chores and Bilbo walked up to Bombur. The large was digging through his saddlebags and Bilbo tried not to stare at his rather impressive facial hair. The mustache was braided into his beard but his chin was shaved clean and the effect was impressive and Bilbo imagined hard for anyone to pull off. The dwarf handed him a kettle that was halfway filled with water, a bag, and a knife and gestured toward the small pile of kindling that was eventually going to be their fire. "Go and set that down, then hand the water skin to Bofur. After you're done cut six of those into cubes and leave the skins."

Bilbo nodded and walked over by the fire he set down everything and went back to retrieve the water skin. He found Bofur who was collecting the water skins from the other dwarves and handed his over. The dwarf took it with a smile and Bilbo sat down near the fire and opened the bag pulling out a potato that didn't have so much a speck of dirt on it. He cut the potato into the kettle finding the act relaxing in its normality. When he was done with the first potato Bombur sat beside him a few other bags in his hands. He set them down and pulled an onion from one and began peeling it. Bilbo set the kettle between them and soon found that he'd finished with his potatoes and Bombur was setting the kettle over the fire.

"You can stir the pot Master Baggins." The dwarf said as he stood to his feet holding out a ladle for Bilbo to take. "Fili and Kili should be returning soon and I want to see whether or not they caught anything."

Bilbo nodded and grabbed the ladle. He stirred the pot and let it rest and stirred it again until Bombur returned with two cleaned rabbits that were covered in spices on branches. He put them over the fire and watched to make sure they didn't fall.

Bofur held out his hand for the ladle. "Go and rest for a while I can handle the rest."

"Alright then. If you insist." Bilbo said as he gave Bombur his ladle back.

Effectively dismissed he made his way to a tree near the edge of the campsite and sat down with a wince as his body protested. He ached all over and he had a feeling that it would be a long while before he stopped aching. He leaned back against the tree and watched the dwarves that had finished their duties gather around the fire talking and laughing. Part of him wanted to get up and join them but most of him was too sore to even consider it. Instead he sat and watched them as the rest of the dwarves finished their cores and waited for Bombur to finish cooking their meal. It didn't take too long the sun hadn't even fully set but by the time the stew was done and he'd gotten a share Bilbo was almost dead on his feet. Nonetheless he dug into the stew with gusto and the instant he was finished he tucked himself into his bed roll.

Sleep should have claimed him instantly he felt tired, dead tired even, but he couldn't close his eyes for more than a second and the snoring of the dwarves did little to help. He stayed up late into the night his mind as restless as his body was tired. Everything made him uncomfortable. The ground was too hard, the air was too cold, he felt too exposed, the cawing of the birds almost sounded like screams, and every one of the dwarves that were asleep snored. he was right next to Bombur and his snoring was almost as impressive as it was loud. When he breathed in the moths that fluttered around his face were pulled into his mouth and when he breathed out they were shot out of it only to be pulled back again. Bilbo watched horrified for a long while before he'd had enough. Frustrated he grumbled as he got to his feet and stretched his arms over his head somehow feeling less sore. He walked over to where the ponies were looking around to see if anyone had noticed that he'd gone.

He walked up to his pony looking at her fondly. "Hello girl." Bilbo said petting the ponies head his voice soft so as not to wake the others or frighten the pony. "Who's a good girl?"

He reached into his pocket and pulled out an apple he'd been saving for himself that he'd forgotten about until he rolled over and though he'd rolled onto a rock. "It's our little secret Myrtle. We must tell no one. Ssh ssh." He held up his finger to his lips and made a shushing noise.

Something screeched in the distance and Bilbo had never hard a more terrifying sound. it made his whole body tingle wit the need to run and hide and stay hidden till morning broke. He looked at the camp seeing that Fili and Kili were still awake sitting back against the cliff. He gestured toward the sound pointing out over the cliff to the forest below. "What was that?"

Kili looked at him gravely and the look was strangely fitting on the young dwarfs face. Kili said only one word but it made the blood in Bilbo's veins freeze and made his heart try and leap from his chest. "Orcs."

_The tonic Bilbo's given is to boost his immune system it's effective at preventing sickness but it isn't much help when Bilbo is already sick.I've gotten some questions in the comments and I've decided to answer them. Bilbo will eventually learn the identity of his father but it will be a few chapters before that happens. The main paring that will be focused on is the relationship between Belladonna and her first husband, romance exists in this fiction but it isn't the main focus, any other parings that happen to show up are cannon. As for Lord Elrond noticing Bilbo's health that will be answered when the company reaches Rivendale. Bilbo's susceptibility to sickness is a result of his genetics. He is a hybrid of two similar but fundamentally different species and this has impaired his immune system making him more vulnerable to viruses than the average hobbit or dwarf. Thank yous to everyone, who read, reviewed, followed, and/or favorited._


	8. Chapter 8

_I do not own this Book/Movie at all. Now that that is out of the way please enjoy the story._

"Orcs!"Bilbo hurried over to where they were sitting trying to be quiet. He stepped over the sleeping dwarves with awkwardly high movements trying not to accidentally kick anyone. Thorin startled awake at Bilbo's quiet shout but stayed seated when he saw that the camp was safe and his nephews were only trying to scare the newest member of the company. Bilbo stopped in front of him his ears trained on every word they spoke.

"Throat-cutters. There'll be dozens of them out there." Fili said pulling his strange pipe away from his lips to gesture to the land around them. The look on his face calm, his voice steady as he spoke, acting like the threat of an orc cutting one's throat was a simple setback and not the horror that Bilbo pictured it was. "The Lone Lands are crawling with them."

"They strike in the wee small hours when everyone's asleep. Quick and quiet, no screams. Just lots of blood." Kili said quietly his voice catching on the word blood. He waved his hand over the ground as though to show how it would be painted red after the orcs had finished and Bilbo shuddered at the thought.

Unable to help himself Bilbo turned away from them to look out over the cliff. He was almost able to see orcs creeping out from behind the trees, he could almost see the glint of the steel of their blades. His mind conjured up images of death and destruction and the feeling of biting cold seeping into his skin. He could see them in his mind as vivid as any drawing though they were lacking the substance of something seen outside of the pages of a book. He was too distracted by his fear and the restless nature of his thoughts to notice that as soon as his back was turned Kili and Fili snickered sharing a quiet laugh at his expense. The three of them were oblivious to the adults who had overheard the two's teasing of Bilbo.

"You think that's funny?" Thorin walked up to them as he looked down on them. His disappointment and disgust in their actions clear in every word he spoke and gesture on his face. "You think a night raid by orcs is a joke?"

Kili bowed his head visibly cowed. "It was just a joke we didn't mean anything by it."

"No you didn't. You know nothing of the world." Thorin said as he shouldered past them leaving both of the young dwarves heavy with guilt in his wake.

Balin walked up to the cliff and leaned on the wall looking at them with understanding. "Don't mind him Laddie. Thorin has more cause than most to hate orcs."

The older dwarf looked at his king standing over the cliff looking to see if there were any dangers approaching them. Balin smiled sadly before turning to the youngsters his mind already going back to another place and time. "After the dragon took the Lonely Mountain King Thror tried to reclaim the ancient dwarf kingdom of Moria. But our enemy had got there first. Moria had been taken by legions of orcs led by the most vile of all their race: Azog the Defiler. The giant Gundabad orc had sworn to wipe out the line of Durin."

Balin sighed knowing that he could not change what had happened though he still mourned for it to this day. The boys needed to hear this so young they were, so young and invincible in their own minds. It was a hard lesson to learn but harder still to learn in real life than the words of an elder. He spoke and watched the horror on their faces as he told the rest of his story. "He began by beheading the king. Thrain, Thorin's father was driven mad by grief. He went missing taken prisoner or killed we did not know. We were leaderless. Defeat and death were upon us, that is when I saw him."

Balin turned to smile fondly at his king. "I saw the young dwarf prince facing down the pale orc. He stood alone against this terrible foe. His armor rent wielding nothing but an oaken branch as a shield. Azog the Defiler learned that day the Line of Durin would not be easily broken. The young dwarf prince was attacked relentlessly and just when it looked like he would not survive the battle he grabbed a fallen sword and swung with all his might severing the pale orcs arm from his body. Our forces rallied and drove the orcs back and our enemy had been defeated."

He looked down at the halfling remembering that he would know little of their culture. "In battles we had won before we would feast and celebrate our victory and the lives of those who gave their lives in battle. But there was no feast, nor song that night for our dead were beyond the count of grief and our victory weighed heavy in our hearts. We few had survived and when I saw that young prince I thought to myself then. There is one I could follow. There is one I could call king."

Every dwarf from the company had been woken from slumber by this tale and each one of them turned to the cliff to gaze at their king with awe and respect. There was not a one of them that did not owe their lives in some way to him.

Bilbo looked up at Balin curiosity forcing the question from his lips though he was afraid of the answer he might receive. "And the pale orc," He paused for a moment as Balin turned to look at him. "What happened to him?"

Thorin walked past them his voice dark with the memory of that battle and the thought of his fallen foe. "He slunk back into the hole whence he came. That filth died of his wounds long ago."

"Go on and get some rest lads. I'll be taking the next watch." Dwalin said as he found a spot to sit against a tree. He kept his axe rested over his legs his eyes scouring the night vigilantly.

Bilbo decided that he would follow Dwalin's advice. He was exhausted from the long travel that he was far from used to and thought that maybe if he fell asleep before the dwarves did his fatigue would keep him in slumber even with their snoring. He lay down on his bedroll and covered himself in blankets that did not keep him as warm as he would have liked. He curled in on himself on the cold ground shivering slightly as his blankets began to warm hoping that when his eyes shut he'd fall into slumber. The ground was hard and he knew that he should have checked under his bedroll for rocks as he could not find a spot that was not lumpy or sharp. It took him longer than he'd have liked as he lay there for what felt like hours before his eyes grew heavy and sleep took him.

* * *

><p>The air was heavy with smoke and heat lapped at his skin as sweat dripped from his brow. He was being chased but he dared not look back and see what it was that was pursuing him so. He ran with the fear that he would fall, or meet a dead end, or simply run too slowly and his fate would be sealed. So much fear was racing through his veins forcing his legs to move faster and faster until they burned hotter than the fires that surrounded him. Horrible howls and screeches echoed around him. The sound of drums thundered through his veins as he tore through smoke so thick he could not tell if he was running through the open or through a corridor as his pursuer gave chase.<p>

His lungs were quaking and his legs were burning when he was forced to stop by a wall that the smoke had hidden from him. He clawed at the cold stone with no relief from the heat as this was the cold of winter, the cold of death. It crawled up his arms with an entirely different kind of burn and left him fevered and chilled, shivering from the cold and sweating from the heat. He ran along the wall pressing his hands against it hoping that he would find another way out. He ran into another wall and when he turned to go the other way it was only three steps before he hit another wall. The smoke suddenly vanished leaving only a thin fog and he saw the hazy outline of his pursuer at the end of the hall. There was no other way out he was trapped. He backed up trying to put distance between them but he had nowhere to go.

He cowered against the wall as the thing that had been chasing him crept closer and closer. They stopped in front of him so close that he could feel their breath on his face but when he looked at them all he saw was obscured and faded like a drawing that wine had been spilled on. He could make out no features, no colors but the dancing grey smoke and shadow that cloaked them like living armor, but he knew somehow that the being that had chased him was a dwarf. They towered over him somehow seeming larger than life and he could feel the anger in its otherworldly gaze. They spoke but the words were like the churning of rock and the clash of metal and he could not make them out. But somehow the noise resonated in his mind and gained meaning.

"You are not my son Bilbo Baggins." The words were harsh and cold cutting through the hobbit like the head of an arrow. "You are a burden not a dwarf, not a hobbit, not even a proper burglar."

Bilbo flinched at each claim pressing himself further against the wall. The fog began to grow thick again and he could feel it pressing against him. It was so thick that it felt more like water than fog and it nearly obscured the towering figure from view but it never truly hid it from his eyes. The fog lessened just enough to make a ring around him that he could see through. He blinked in confusion when Lobelia stepped out of the thick fog a sneer on her face and cruel laughter dripping from her lips. "You're not a Baggins. You're hardly even a hobbit."

Otho appeared out of the fog beside her his face twisted in disgust as he looked down at Bilbo. "Bag End is going to go to a Baggins just like it should. Bungo would be so ashamed of you running off with thirteen dwarves and a wizard. What a disappointment you turned out to be be."

The fog gathered thick and the two hobbits faded from view and when it dissipated the blonde haired dwarf Fili and his dark haired brother were where they had stood looking down at him like he was beneath them somehow. They spoke in unison like they had when they had introduced themselves at Bag End. "You are a coward Mr. Boggins. You're just a scared little boy on an adventure where you'll be nothing but a burden for the rest of us to carry."

The fog swirled in and around the brothers and spread forming shadowy silhouettes of the rest of the dwarves in the company. As they formed they laughed and jeered at the halfling each one voicing how much they felt he was holding them back from their goal, how much of a burden he was, how much he didn't belong. He cried tears building up in his eyes as it became too much. He shouldn't have come. He knew that what they were saying was true. The shadowy dwarf, the father that had hunted him stood over him and the other dwarves fell silent vanishing into the fog.

"Those are not yours." The dwarf grabbed the chain around Bilbo's neck and Bilbo watched as the dwarf ran his fingers over the two beads. His father yanked on the chain and with a cry from Bilbo the links snapped. As the chain dangled from the shadowy dwarfs hand Bilbo fell backward. The wall that was there had become mist like the fog and he fell through it as the ground dropped out from under him. His stomach did flips as he screamed and clawed at the air trying desperately to stop his fall. The shining of scales and gold and the light and heat of fire followed him into the void and just when he thought it would overtake him he hit the ground.

The hobbit shot up his body drenched in sweat and his hand in a death grip over the beads he wore under his shirt. He breathed in deep and heavy as the darkness he was expecting was instead the dim light of a morning not yet touched by the break of dawn. He blinked at the unexpected change of scenery as he found himself sitting surrounded by sleeping dwarves in the camp and not falling endlessly in the dark. He took a couple of deep breaths as his heart slowed down from the mad gallop it was doing in his chest the cool air sweet in his lungs and soothing against the ragged soreness of his throat. He stood and stretched feeling the dream slip away from him with every breath of fresh air and every sore muscle that reminded him that he was not falling, nor was he burning.

"Good morning Mr. Baggins." Bofur said from where he was sitting by the slowly dying fire.

"Good morning Mr. Bofur." Bilbo said as he turned to face the dwarf who he recognized for his furry hat.

He stepped through the maze of dwarves to sit by the dwarf the dream still stubbornly clinging to him like unwanted company. Bofur nodded at him and proceeded to poke at the fading coals with a stick and add dried grass and twigs to the growing flames. The two sat in silence as Bilbo watched Bofur coax the flame to life adding more and more to it until a true campfire was beginning to burn. Bilbo leaned away from the heat, it reminded him too much of his dream. If he looked into the fire he could almost see the shimmer of scales that had troubled him last night.

"You were kicking up a quite fuss just now." The dwarf said with a nod to the empty bed roll Bilbo had slept in. He spoke and though his voice was not unkind it was certainly not the jovial tone Bilbo had become familiar with in his short time knowing Bofur. "You don't have to be afraid of us knowing the truth, but I won't be telling the others if you don't want me to. I understand why you wouldn't want most folk knowing."

Bilbo paled the blood leaving his face. "You know about me?"

"I may have overheard Gandalf and you talking before we left." Bofur said as he looked into the fire. "And if I hadn't known then I would have found it out last night. You only started late into my watch but you murmured in your sleep until you started screaming. It's a good thing for you that most of us are heavy sleepers and the ones that were already up went to take care of supplies. Even so you shouldn't be afraid of them none will wish you ill for what you are and if they do I'll set them straight." Bofur smiled trying to get a less negative reaction from the halfling.

Bilbo looked down at the ground afraid for his secret and embarrassed. "You don't have to do that Mr. Bofur."

"Of course I do I'm under the threat of a wizard and I quite like being a dwarf." Bofur said cheerily. "The life of a toad sounds miserable." He continued in a false somber tone with an exaggerated look of revulsion that made Bilbo's lips twist into a small smile.

"I would prefer it if you were to keep my secret for now." Bilbo said softly as his fingers brushed against the beads under his shirt. He sighed "It's better if no one else knows."

"If that is your choice then I won't be one to argue." Bofur said with a shrug before he stood and dusted off his hands. "Now if you'll excuse me I'm going to wake my brother up so that we can have breakfast sometime this morning." Bofur said as he pointed to where his brother Bombur was still asleep.

After Bofur left Bilbo got up and packed up his things and packed them back on Myrtle so that he would be ready when the time came to leave. He wasn't about to be left behind again just because he wasn't ready when the time came to go. As it went they didn't linger at the camp long and by the time dawn had broken they had finished breakfast and the clearing of the camp and were all on their ponies marching toward Erebor again. The dwarves chatted amongst each other and Bilbo was content to fade into the background as it were and just listen to the tales. It seemed that fate was smiling on them that day. They were even making good time until around noon when a minor setback occurred.

Gandalf was at the head of their party when they hit a bit of a storm and they had to trudge through the rain. They were all getting wet and some of them did better in the rain than others. Many of the dwarves were annoyed with the rain but their hoods shielded them from most of the rain. Bofur mostly seemed upset that he could not smoke his pipe with all the water getting in it and he was doing quite well besides that small annoyance. Bilbo however was soaked to the bone. He had water dripping from his hair and clothes without the benefit of a hood to shield him from the worst of the storm. He was the one doing the worst on their journey but he was far from the only one tired of the rain.

"Here, Mr. Gandalf can't you do something about this deluge." Dori complained as more and more water fell from the sky with no signs of stopping anytime soon.

Gandalf groaned. "It is raining Master Dwarf and it will continue to rain until the rain is done. If you wish to change the weather of the world you should find yourself another wizard."

"Are there any?" Bilbo asked sounding younger than he normally did.

"What?" Gandalf asked.

"Other wizards." Bilbo clarified as he managed somehow to keep his balance on the soaked saddle.

"There are five of us. The greatest of our order is Saruman the White. Then there are the two blue wizards. They are called, Hmm. Do you know I've quite forgotten their names?" He said his eyes crinkling with amusement.

Bilbo perked up asking the question just in case Gandalf trailed off before answering it. "And who is the fifth?"

Gandalf seemed to be taking the opportunity to spread his knowledge well if the slight mile that could be seen under his beard could be trusted. "That would be Radagast the Brown."

"Is he a great wizard or is he more like you?" Bilbo asked with a slight wince hoping that Gandalf wouldn't take the thinly veiled insult too hard.

Gandalf shot him a look but ignored his slight in favor of answering his question. "I think he is a very great wizard in his own way. He is a gentle soul who prefers the company of animals to others. He keeps a watchful eye over the vast forests to the east and a good thing too for always evil will look to find a foothold in this world."

_We will be dealing with the orcs and Radagast when they meet up with the company later. I have a few more questions to answer. I'm sure a few of the dwarves had a bit of a chuckle over Bilbo's predicament, medicine never tastes good even when they try to make it bearable. Bilbo won't be having any romantic relationships but he will develop friendships within the company as time goes by. As for Bilbo's weak constitution he will most likely never fully grow out of it but he will become a bit hardier with time. As for Bilbo's father being a member of the company he is indeed a member of the company but I will not be saying who he is until it is revealed in story. __Thank yous to everyone, who read, reviewed, followed, and/or favorited._


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